


Breathe Me

by Killibinbin



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Oh, Romance, SHINee - Freeform, That's it, and sad, but it's not a theme, jonghyun just wants to help, just jinki being worried, minho is a little confused, okay, taemin is in a coma most of the fic, the minho/taemin is a past potential relationship, there's also mention of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 01:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 68,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18326123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killibinbin/pseuds/Killibinbin
Summary: Jonghyun doesn't usually talk to strangers in the hospital.Minho doesn't usually drink hot chocolate.Jonghyun just wants Minho to cheer up.Minho just wants Taemin to come back.Jinki and Kibum somehow become their advisors.Why does love have to hurt?





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... I don't know, I thought I'd post this here since... well I don't really know haha. I've been on AO3 for a while but never thought of creating an account and posting my stories here until now. This is a story from my AFF account and I might post more, but my earlier stories are a bit problematic and need a lot of work so I'm not sure I should post them here yet. I might post one of my WIPs though!
> 
> Anyhoo, hope you like this story!
> 
> P.S.  
> English is not my native language, so please be kind.

 

 

 

Jonghyun sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes before stretching in his seat and feeling his spine pop satisfactorily. He had been sitting in the same position for hours, watching program after program on History Channel since his grandmother absolutely loved historic documentaries. Thanks to her, he would be an expert in world history sooner rather than later.

He glanced at her, smiling fondly when he saw she had fallen asleep.

He was in the hospital (like he was every other night) visiting his grandmother. He didn’t really know the details about her condition, but she had some sort of problem with her vital organs. It forced her to stay in the hospital as she needed twenty-four-hour watch for a few months until she was healed. And since his parents and all of their relatives lived in another city Jonghyun was the only one to keep her company. His mother had asked him to stay with her so she wouldn’t feel lonely, which was why he almost lived with her there in the hospital – to make her feel more at ease and not like she was just left to die all by herself. Jonghyun wasn’t going to complain though, because he really loved his grandmother. The hospital staff was nice too. They had put an extra bed in her room for him since he more often than not fell asleep in the chair by her bed and they were starting to feel sorry for his aching body.

He pulled the colourful quilt, which she had knitted to make her bed a bit more personal, a little higher up to cover her properly before standing with another stretch. He walked on stiff legs to her bedside table and reached for the remote to turn the TV off. Then he made his way over to the door, dimming the lights before exiting and going down to the third floor to get some hot cocoa. It had almost become a routine at this point; go to work at the hotel, return to the hospital, talk and read with his grandmother for a few hours before watching TV the remaining ones until she fell asleep. Then he’d hunt down his favourite hot beverage in the desolate corridors of the night to get a moment of peace before either going home or staying in the hospital to sleep, depending on his schedule the next day.

He let out a large yawn as he stepped out of the elevator before he stopped completely.

What  _wasn’t_  a routine, however, was the young man he found sitting on the ugly green and uncomfortable-looking couch in front of the beverage machine. He had his head in his hands, his elbows supported by his knees. His hair was tousled from what Jonghyun guessed had been fingers going through it in agitation and his figure was hunched in on itself. He didn’t move even a nanometre as Jonghyun cautiously approached the machine and put a few coins in, making it hum as it woke up and went to work.

He glanced back at the dishevelled stranger and felt a pang of compassion. He wondered who it was this young man had visited or worse – lost. The third floor was where the ICU department was, which meant nothing good could have happened.

The machine beeped and he took the paper cup from it, looking down at the contents thoughtfully. He hesitated for a moment, rolling on the balls of his feet, and wondered if he should approach the hunched over figure or not. Most people in the hospital just wanted to be alone in their grief, and Jonghyun was sure this was one of them. However, there was something about this person that made him unable to leave. He didn’t know if it was the way he looked so vulnerable, as if he would crumble to pieces as soon as Jonghyun turned his back and left, or if it was the despair that could practically be seen in the air surrounding him. So, instead of leaving like he should, he took a small breath and sat down beside the stranger, cradling the hot cocoa in his hands nervously. When he didn’t make any indication he had noticed him, Jonghyun cleared his throat softly.

“Uh, hello?” he started uncertainly.

The stranger slowly turned his head towards him, looking dully surprised. Jonghyun bit his lip when he saw the red edges around his eyes and the pained frown above them. He was sure the stranger usually looked quite handsome – with his ruffled, dark brown hair and big dark eyes – but at the moment he just looked crushed. Jonghyun fidgeted awkwardly, not really knowing what to say when he actually got the stranger’s attention. Then a small idea struck him and he wordlessly held up the cup in front of him, offering it to the young man.

He stared at it for a long moment, almost as if he had never seen such a thing before. Jonghyun fidgeted in place again, contemplating whether or not to just get up and leave when the stranger raised a hand lethargically. He accepted the cup with a very silent ‘ _thank you_ ’ and cradled it in his own hands.

Jonghyun gave him a soft smile, but he didn’t seem to notice. He stared down at the contents in thought before taking a tentative sip. Then he closed his eyes, a silent tear escaping. Jonghyun's breath caught and his eyes widened. He helplessly flailed with his hands for a second, then decided ‘ _to hell with it!_ ’ and put an arm around the stranger’s shoulders, squeezing lightly.

The stranger stiffened, opening his eyes again to give Jonghyun an incredulous look. He smiled at him awkwardly and gave his back a gentle pat. He knew from experience that saying things like ‘ _it’ll be okay_ ’, ‘ _don’t worry_ ’, ‘ _I’m sure – insert name here – wouldn’t want you to be sad_ ’ etc. had no effect whatsoever other than being annoying. Mostly, people just needed something else to think about for a while – something that wasn’t as painful

“You know, hot cocoa is the best!” Jonghyun blurted. “I mean, it can really warm you up from inside-out. Things like tea and coffee don’t really do that, you know? Also, chocolate makes you feel happy, doesn’t it? I read somewhere in my nan’s magazines that it releases some endorphins or something. That’s why I think you should always drink hot cocoa when you're sad! And–”

He cut off abruptly when there was a small snort from beside him and looked at the stranger to see an incredulous, but slightly amused, expression on his face. Jonghyun smiled sheepishly at him and he shook his head, checking his watch and standing up.

“Idiot,” he murmured in a deep voice, although it didn’t have any bite in it.

Jonghyun chuckled.

“I guess,” he shrugged and the stranger raised his eyebrows at him. Then he gave a small nod in goodbye and disappeared down the corridor towards the elevators.

Jonghyun stared after him for a moment with a small smile on his lips, feeling accomplished. It seemed as if he had managed to help a little at least, he thought as he stood, put few new coins in the machine to get his own cup of hot cocoa and made his way back to his grandmother’s room. It would be nice if the stranger came back and maybe even treated him to something in return.

Yeah, he would very much like that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as Minho got the message, he dropped just about everything he held in his hands, ignoring his co-workers’ indignant sounds, and raced to the elevator. He had no time to stop and explain, no time to even put on his coat to protect him from the wind outside. His only thought was to get to the hospital and to Temin’s side with as little interference as possible. Luckily for him, the afternoon rush-hour had just passed and he could drive almost without stopping, furiously screaming at the few red lights that dared obstruct his path.

He finally made it to the hospital’s entrance after what seemed like eons. He screamed at the poor receptionist that no, Taemin didn’t have a family except for him! And  _no_ , he didn’t have time for a fucking visitor’s badge, because he needed to be with Taemin  _right now_! He even threw a tantrum when they wouldn’t let him into surgery, although the logical part of his brain reasoned with him exactly why they couldn’t. It resulted in him sitting on the floor outside the door to the surgery ward for about five hours, unmoving, uncaring and unseeing. One of the nurses tried to talk to him, console him and tell him it was going to be okay. He wanted to shove her nametag down her throat. Because it was  _not_  going to be okay! His Taemin was in  _surgery_! How was that  _any_  form of okay?!

Then suddenly, the doors to the surgery ward opened and Minho flew to his feet, making the nurse stumble backwards. He stared with a sinking feeling at the bleak, bruised face of one of the people he cherished the most in the world and quietly, almost instinctively, followed the line of doctors and nurses pushing Taemin's bed up to the third floor and into a bleak, ominous room. There the lead doctor of the surgery had let the bomb drop.

Taemin was in a coma.

The man continued, saying that his condition was stable, but that they didn’t know how long he would be in this comatose state and that he was so very sorry.

Minho wanted to hit the man. How could he let that happen?! He was a doctor! A surgeon! He was supposed to give people life, not put them in comas!

He managed to collect himself enough to force out a ‘ _thank you’_  to the man. The doctor nodded and told him there were some forms he needed to fill out before he went home and left.

Minho was left standing by Taemin's bedside for a long time, staring at the cuts in his face and the cast around his arm. His chest constricted painfully and he couldn’t stop the tears that started running down his cheeks. He hadn’t even noticed them pressing behind his eyes, but suddenly he was very much aware of how close he had been to crying ever since he got the phone call and how incredibly scared he was.

A car had hit Taemin on his way to the grocery store. The driver had been drunk, exceeded the speed limit and ignored the red lights. The doctors said he had almost not made it, as both of his lungs had been punctured by his ribs, his ribcage severely damaged, the bones in his left arm were all broken and he had hit the side of his head on the concrete so hard there had been a crack in his cranium.

They had managed to save him though, and he would be able to live normally, although with a few restrictions. That is, if he ever woke up.

Minho swallowed harshly, feeling like he needed to throw up. Suddenly, the air in the room was suffocating him and he had to get out, get away from the invisible ropes in there that were strangling him. He quickly made his way to the door after leaving a very soft kiss on Taemin's forehead, choking out he would be back as soon as he could, and stepped into the dimly lit corridor. He looked down at his watch, a bit disoriented, and noticed it was already well past midnight.

Leaning heavily against the door, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long shaky breath. Then he listlessly made his way over to an ugly green couch further down the corridor and sat down on it, staring at the coffee machine in front of him for a moment without seeing it. He felt so completely lost, his head pounding and an empty feeling weeling up inside his chest, all the way out to his fingertips.

How could this happen?

He was supposed to look after Taemin, to keep him out of trouble. That was the promise he had made when they were still in high school and the boy had run away from home, his alcoholic mother not even bothering to come looking for him. That was the same promise he had made the night his family had unofficially adopted the boy and he started living with them. It was also what he had assured everyone when they went off to college and got an apartment of their own. He was his best friend along with their other childhood friend Jinki and–

_Jinki_.

Minho groaned when he remembered the three of them were supposed to have dinner that night and pulled out his phone. Sure enough, there were about thirty missed calls and fifteen voicemails from the oldest of them. He took a deep breath to collect himself before pressing the call button, not giving himself the time to think things through and chicken out.

“Minho, where the hell are you?!” Jinki asked angrily, but worriedly, as he picked up halfway through the first signal. “Where’s Taemin?! Do you know what  _time_  it is?! You both better have a good explanation for this!”

“Hyung,” Minho croaked out. He heard Jinki cut off abruptly and draw in a small gasp at the devastated tone in his voice.

“Minho,  _please_  tell me you both are alright,” he breathed. When Minho remained quiet he took a shaky breath, most likely preparing himself for the worst. “Okay. What happened? Where are you? Are you hurt anywhere? Have you called an ambulance? Is Tae–”

“Hyung,” he interrupted, his voice breaking, and another few tears ran down his cheeks silently. “I’m fine… i-it’s Taemin. He… he was in an accident. We’re in the hospital right now.”

It was quiet on the other end for a moment and he heard Jinki swallow harshly before taking another deep, shaky breath.

“Okay, I’m coming. Which hospital are you in?” he said determinedly and Minho could hear the rustle of clothes and keys jingling.

He gave him the name of the hospital and decided to fill him in on the details in person when he got there. Not even fifteen minutes later a panting Jinki was half running down the corridor as quietly as he could, spotting Minho on the couch. He rushed up to him and demanded to hear every single detail he could offer, his face growing harder the more he was told. When he was done, Jinki abruptly turned around to go to Taemin's room, leaving Minho to once again stare at the coffee machine in despair.

What if he had gone grocery shopping yesterday, like he should have done? What if he hadn’t rescheduled their dinner to work last weekend? What if the grocery store at the corner hadn’t closed and Taemin hadn’t needed to go to the one two blocks down? What if, what if,  _what if_?

Jinki returned after half an hour, saying he had filled out the forms and that they should go home to rest. When Minho began to protest, he assured him they would come back tomorrow. Minho stared at him blankly, hearing the words but not really able to process them, and Jinki sat down beside him to pull him into a hug. They sat like that for a while, clinging to each other in an attempt to not break down, before Jinki hoarsely asked for the keys to the car, since Minho didn’t seem stable enough to drive home. He nodded, pulling them out of his pocket and handing them over. Jinki softly told him he would get the car and meet him at the entrance in ten minutes. Then he was gone.

Minho let out a deep breath, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He stared down at his feet unseeingly, trying not to think of all the ‘ _what if_ ’s and ‘ _could have been_ ’s his brain kept coming up with. He sat like that for a few minutes, no other sound around him except for the distant beeps of heart monitors coming from the surrounding rooms while he tried to collect himself enough to get up.

The ding of the elevator distantly registered in his mind and he wondered if he had been sitting there longer than he thought and Jinki had come back to get him. However, the blue, worn out converse that appeared in his vision didn’t belong to his friend. He listened as the stranger put some coins into the coffee machine and how it buzzed with the effort of making the chosen beverage. When the machine was done he saw the converse clad feet hesitate on their way back to the elevators, before suddenly turning to him and approaching, the body they belonged to sitting down beside him on the couch with a soft ‘ _thump_ ’.

Minho decided to ignore the stranger. The last thing he needed was some do-good-know-it-all to tell him whatever he was going trough would work out in the end. If this stranger wanted to help him they could kindly leave before Minho decided to introduce his fist to their face.

“Uh, hello?” the stranger said after clearing his throat, sounding uncertain.

His voice was gentle and soft, almost like a melody, and he sounded young, around Minho's age. Minho slowly turned his head to look at him, surprised despite himself. His hair was platinum blonde, looking extremely soft and fluffy, his dark eyes were framed by thick lashes and quite big, almost rivalling Minho's own, and he had piercings in both ears, giving a slightly punk look to his otherwise soft appearance.

The stranger watched him quietly for a moment, a small dent appearing on his forehead, before he held up the cup in his hands to Minho's face. He stared at it, wondering what the hell was happening. It took him a while to realize the stranger was offering him whatever it was he had bought and Minho slowly raised his arm to accept the cup, his limbs feeling like they were made out of lead.

“Thank you,” he muttered quietly, cupping both his hands around it. His heart skipped a beat as he stared down at the contents and a lump formed in his throat.

It was hot chocolate.

Taemin's favourite.

He took a sip and closed his eyes, trying to stop the sudden need to cry again, but couldn’t help the stray tear that managed to escape. He whished the stranger wouldn't notice it. He froze when he felt a tentative arm around his shoulders and opened his eyes to look at the stranger incredulously, not at all understanding why he was doing this. He sincerely hoped the stranger wouldn’t start spewing bullshit like the nurse had done, because he seemed nice enough and Minho didn’t want to have to punch him after he had so kindly given him his chocolate.

“You know, hot cocoa is the best!” the stranger said.

What?

“I mean, it can really warm you up from inside-out. Things like tea and coffee don’t really do that, you know?” Minho didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as the stranger continued blabbering. “Also, chocolate makes you feel happy, doesn’t it? I read somewhere in my nan’s magazines that it releases some endorphins or something. That’s why I think you should always drink hot cocoa! And-”

Minho couldn’t help the soft snort that escaped him and wondered how the stranger had even come up with this topic at all. Discussing it with another stranger even. The blond man smiled at him sheepishly and he shook his head at him, catching sight of the wall clock behind his head. He looked down at his wrist to see that more than fifteen minutes had passed. Jinki was most probably already at the entrance.

He stood up, murmuring a slightly amused ‘ _idiot_ ’ to the stranger who only chuckled at him.

“I guess,” he answered and Minho raised his eyebrows at him. Who would ever admit to being an idiot?

He decided he didn’t need to worry about that and gave him a small nod in goodbye and thanks before quickly making his way to the elevators and down to the entrance.

He glanced down at the cup in his hand as he exited the elevator and made his way to the entrance, thankful the stranger had managed to stop his wallowing of what could have been for the short moment they had talked – or rather the short moment the stranger had blabbered about chocolate.

There needed to be more people like him, Minho decided.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“What are you smiling at?”

Jonghyun, who had peacefully been stacking the key-cards in neat little piles behind the reception desk of the hotel he worked in, jumped and spun around to come face to face with his co-worker, Kibum.

“I’m not smiling,” he said and frowned at the black-haired, younger man.

“No, you’re right,” Kibum agreed with a small laugh. “You were outright grinning like a dufus.”

Jonghyun chuckled sheepishly.

“I was?”

“Yeah.” Kibum smiled and leaned against the counter beside him, crossing his arms. “Care to share?”

“Well...” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, putting one last card into the pile. “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“I met this guy who looked really heartbroken at the hospital and somehow ended up talking to him after giving him my hot cocoa,” Jonghyun explained, glancing at his co-worker. “He seemed to feel a little better afterwards, so I was just glad I did something good.”

Kibum looked amused.

“And he was apparently good looking.”

Jonghyun laughed embarrassedly.

“How’d you know?”

“I told you, you were grinning.” He pinched Jonghyun's cheek. “You’re lucky you were able to meet a handsome guy in a  _hospital_  of all places. How else would you ever have a chance at romance, with you practically living there?”

He grimaced at Kibum.

“I’ll have you know, there are very pretty nurses there. And also some handsome doctors.”

Kibum snorted.

“Sure, like you'd ever have a chance with them. They’re too smart for you.”

“Hey,” Jonghyun said in mock hurt, lightly punching his shoulder in retaliation. Kibum laughed, sticking out his tongue before sauntering away to help a guest.

Jonghyun shook his head with a small smile and decided to check through the week’s bookings and conferences. It fell a little though, as he thought about what Kibum had said while he clicked on the calendar on the reception desk’s computer.

Sure, the stranger had been good-looking but if Jonghyun used the opportunities when they met – which probably were going to come by often in the hospital if the stranger had someone to visit – to flirt wasn’t he just going to take advantage of the stranger's weakened state? Because there was no denying he found him interesting. However, he had to have lost someone very important for him to look as lost as he had that night, maybe even his lover, and Jonghyun wasn’t so sure he liked the idea of being a distraction or rebound.

Well, he thought as he moved over to allow Kibum to get a key-card ready for the guest he had been helping, he’d just have to talk to the stranger again and get to know him – that is, if he even came back to the hospital at all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho sat down heavily in a chair by the kitchen island in his apartment, staring at the plates of food laid out for him disinterestedly. He had not been able to sleep at all last night, his head spinning with regret and his heart heavy with sorrow.  When he actually managed to doze off, his dreams were filled with either having to watch Taemin getting hit by a car or being in the hospital after they had been forced to stop his life support. And now he was feeling like absolute shit because of it, not really in the mood for anything besides lying in bed and crying his eyes out.

“So, what do you want to drink?” Jinki asked as he took out a mug for his tea from the cupboard above the sink. He had stayed over at the apartment Minho and Taemin shared since he was reluctant to leave Minho alone. Which was the only reason Minho had bothered to get up at all. He didn’t want to worry Jinki more than he already had. “Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”

Minho frowned and gave Jinki a weird look. He never drank hot chocolate. He hated the stuff.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Yeah…” Jinki said hesitantly. “You drank it yesterday… in the car, remember? I just assumed…”

His voce died out uncertainly and Minho didn’t really like the hesitant look on his face – like he was unsure of how to talk to him.

“Oh…” he said slowly.

He hadn’t really thought about it. When he had taken the cup from the stranger yesterday, his mind had been so occupied by trying to keep himself together he hadn’t bothered to remember he hated hot chocolate. Although he had to give it to the stranger, the beverage actually made him feel warmer inside.

“Thank you, but coffee’s fine,” he mumbled to Jinki who nodded and put his now finished tea on the island counter to quickly make a cup of coffee for Minho.

“So,” he said tentatively when he sat down as well, pushing the cup of coffee to Minho's side of the countertop. He took it between his hands and stared at the black liquid unseeingly, hearing Jinki speak as if he was far away. “Have you told your parents?”

Minho winced and grimaced.

“No.” He glanced up at him. “They’re on their anniversary trip and I don’t want to spoil it for them. They’ll be here in a week anyway.”

Jinki looked like he disagreed but let it be.

“Are you going to tell  _her_?”

Minho bit his lip in thought for a moment, turning the cup in his hands before taking a sip, stalling.

Taemin's mother hadn’t shown much interest in her son even before he ran away, even less when he finally did. It had broken Taemin's heart but he had said that somewhere deep down he had always known she would jave an easier life without him. He reminded her too much of his dad. Minho's heart had ached for his best friend and he had decided he never wanted to let him feel unwanted ever again. His parents hadn’t put up much of an objection when he’d told them about Taemin staying with them for a while and it wasn’t long before Taemin permanently moved into their guestroom. He had worked hard to go to both school and a part-time job in order to pay back what he could to Minho's parents, who at first refused the money but accepted it on Taemin's insistence – if only to use it on the boy themselves. Taemin never knew that, though.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I think I’ll find her and tell her. His mother should at least know even if she doesn’t want to visit him.”

Jinki nodded and reached over to pat his arm before he started to eat, a small frown on his forehead. Minho picked at his food absentmindedly, not really having much of an appetite and trying not to mind the emptiness and quietness without Taemin at the table. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, which seemed to have taken up permanent residence there ever since yesterday.

“Did you tell him?”

He froze when Jinki decided to break the silence with his question. Then he let out a harsh breath, not at all prepared to get into this topic, especially now.

“No,” he croaked and cleared his throat. “I-I couldn’t find the time and place and–”

“Minho, you’ve had feelings that are not brotherly for him for years,” Jinki muttered. “And you might’ve just lost your chance.” Minho gave him a burning look and he flinched. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But you see my point, right?”

“Hyung, I refuse to believe Taemin won’t wake up,” he growled. “And I won’t let you say otherwise.”

“Minho,” Jinki sighed. “I don’t want to believe he won’t wake up either, but you have to be realistic. It is a real possibility until the doctors know more about his situation and what to do about it. Right now we can’t know if he will wake up for sure.”

“Hyung,” Minho rumbled warningly, the lump in his throat growing bigger. “He  _will_  come back.”

Jinki watched him silently for a moment, a pained expression on his face. Minho bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears that were now pressing behind his eyes and he could see tears gathering in Jinki's eyes as well.

“I really hope he does,” Jinki said unsteadily before giving a shaky smile, blinking to get his tears away. “Who’d want to be stuck alone with your sorry ass anyway?”

A small, trembling smile managed to make its way onto Minho's lips too and he threw his napkin at him.

“Anyway,” Jinki said as he caught it, clearing his throat so it wouldn’t sound choked with tears. “How come you drank hot chocolate yesterday? I thought you really hated that stuff.”

“Oh, well…” he said hoarsely. “A stranger gave it to me.”

Jinki raised his eyebrows sceptically.

“A stranger. In the hospital.”

He nodded.

“And you just accepted without questioning it? Are you sure it was just hot chocolate?”

Minho gave him a disbelieving look.

“He seemed nice enough,” he tried to defend. “It didn’t taste funny or anything.”

“Sure,” Jinki said unconvinced.

“Hyung, I really don’t need this right now,” Minho groaned. “It’s hard to keep it together as it is! I  _wish_  he’d actually put something in it! It would have made it easier to handle this shit!”

Jinki's face fell.

“Don’t say that.”

Minho looked down at his food guiltily, starting to pick at it again.

“Sorry,” he rasped out, a tear silently gliding down his cheek without his permission.

“Minho,” Jinki sighed. “I know this must be really hard for you. You’ve spent almost your entire life with Taemin. But please, don’t ever do drugs or drink or anything of the sort to get away from the pain.”

He got up and made his way around the kitchen island to put an arm around Minho's shoulders and pull him to his chest, patting his head softly with the other.

“Besides, when Taemin wakes up and finds out you did something like that he’d kick your butt,” he chuckled weakly.

Minho was thankful Jinki had used the word ‘ _when_ ’ instead of ‘ _if_ ’, once again putting a small smile on his lips.

“He’d kick yours too for not keeping me away from it,” he retorted, drying away the stray tear.

Jinki pulled back to give him a mock hurt expression.

“Hey, I tried. I just gave you the speech.”

Minho's smile widened a little.

“Thank you Hyung,” he mumbled.

Jinki gave him a satisfied nod before looking at the clock and sighing.

“I need to get to work,” he muttered. “They wouldn’t let me take the day off. I already called your boss and explained the situation and he gave you three days to recover.”

Minho nodded.

“Okay.”

“Try to eat a little at least,” Jinki said with a pointed look at his untouched food before putting his dishes in the sink and heading for the hallway. “And I’ll probably see you at the hospital tonight, right?”

He nodded again. Jinki gave him a small smile and wave before disappearing behind the corner to the kitchen. There was a rustle as he put on his jacket and shoes before he called ‘ _bye!_ ’, the door opening and closing, leaving Minho alone in the apartment.

He let out a heavy sigh and grimaced. It was difficult to breathe, as if a heavy stone was resting on his chest. He eyed the food on the table tiredly, wrinkling his nose as his stomach roll unpleasantly. He was sure that if he tried to eat he would just throw it up. He stood up heavily, leaving the plates where they were since he didn’t have any energy to clean it up, and made his way back to his room. He flopped down on the bed again to collect himself for a few minutes before he needed to get dressed and leave for the hospital.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Is there a reason you keep twisting your neck in impossible angles?”

Jonghyun snapped his head back towards his grandmother who smiled at him warmly. She shook her head and put down her knitting tools in her lap to take a sip from the glass of lemonade in front of her.

“I… don’t…” his voice died out as her eyebrows rose and he picked at the napkin on the table in front of him.

They were sitting outside, enjoying the late spring sun with a glass of lemonade and some cookies Jonghyun had bought on his way to the hospital after his shift at the hotel three blocks down.

“Is there someone you’re looking for?” she asked, sounding very amused.

“Well…” Jonghyun rubbed the side of his neck with an awkward laugh. “I was just looking for a guy I bumped into yesterday… he was really down and I was wondering if he would come back.”

His grandmother’s smile fell.

“He must have visited someone very dear to him.”

Jonghyun's hand dropped to his lap and he stared at the condensation on his glass, a small frown on his forehead.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I hope he is all right. He seemed very out of it.”

His grandmother reached over the table and patted his cheek.

“You really are a busy-body, boy.”

“Hey!” Jonghyun laughed. “If I wasn’t such a busy-body you’d be left all by yourself!”

His grandmother rolled her eyes.

“Jonghyun, dear, I know you don’t want to make me feel lonely and I know your mother told you to keep me company, but I don’t need constant supervision.”

Jonghyun pouted, trying to look cute.

“So, no ‘ _thank you for your effort_ ’?”

“That look won’t work on me, boy,” she laughed and pinched his cheek. “I was the one both you and your mother inherited it form after all.”

He grimaced at her before laughing.

“I feel sorry for dad. He can never refuse any of us.”

His grandmother chuckled, picking up her knitting tools again, and they settled into a comfortable silence. Jonghyun bit his lip and glanced around one last time before deciding he was being too desperate for someone he had barely even talked to. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the backrest of the chair, letting the sun warm him up. However much he tried, he couldn't help his thoughts drifitng to the stranger and he wondered if he would be okay. He had seemed so heartbroken it looked like it was eating him up from inside out.

He dozed off with a small frown on his forehead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho raised his head from its hanging position, watching the pale and bruised but peaceful face of Taemin. His grip on Taemin's hand tightening and he tried to swallow the lump of tears in his throat, glancing at the heart monitor. He had been sitting there the entire day, trying to talk to the motionless form on the bed since the doctors had told him it might help. He hadn’t gotten many words out because he choked on every other sentence he tried to speak. He had given up on talking after half an hour and had just sat there silently for the rest of the day, barely noticing the sky growing darker while holding Taemin's hand, a stray tear running down his cheek every now and then.

He jumped a little when the door opened and turned to see Jinki in the doorway. Jinki gave a small pained smile at the blank look on his face and Minho tried to look a little livelier than he felt, clearing his throat.

“Hey, Hyung,” he rasped out.

Jinki sighed and made his way over to the bed.

“Have you eaten at all today?”

Minho blinked at him. He had honestly completely forgotten about food or anything of the like. Jinki shook his head.

“Go and get something to drink at least if you don’t want to eat, we can’t have you passing out from dehydration,” he said as he came to a stop beside him. “I’ll stay here, don’t worry,” he added when he saw his unsure look.

“Thank you, Hyung,” Minho mumbled and stood up on stiff legs.

Jinki squeezed his shoulder before he took Minho's seat. He gave Jinki a weak smile and made his way out the door and down the corridor to the vending machines he had seen when he was there last time – where he had met the stranger. He looked at all the available products before sighing and flopping down on the uncomfortable couch, feeling like he would vomit if he ate or drank anything, much like he had felt that morning. He sat staring blankly at the glass of the vending machine to pass some time before going back so he could pretend he had eaten or drank something; he hadn’t decided which lie to tell yet.

He could see his own dishevelled reflection in the glass and scowled at his tousled hair, which he hadn’t bothered to comb this morning, and his rumpled white shirt. He was glad he couldn’t really see his face properly because he was sure he looked like hell. He was certainly feeling like it.

He glanced at the clock and his eyes widened when he noticed it was almost midnight. Letting out a small groan, he sank down on the couch, leaning his head on the backrest. He closed his eyes, listening to the nurses talking to each other in low voices and the elevator ding in the distance. Heart monitors were beeping all around him in the quiet night air and he couldn’t help but think what would happen if Taemin's suddenly stopped.

A small gasp made him open his eyes again and lift his head. His gaze fell upon the blonde stranger he had met yesterday who was now looking at him with wide eyes. He raised his eyebrows at him questioningly and the stranger blushed faintly before abruptly turning to the coffee machine and putting coins in. The corners of Minho's lips twitched the slightest and he let his head fall back again, once more closing his eyes as the sound of the machine filled the quiet air.

His heart jumped when he felt the couch dip next to him and he snapped his eyes open, looking at the stranger in astonishment. The stranger smiled shyly and held out one of the two paper cups in his hands. Minho stared at him for a moment, wondering, just like the night before, what was happening, before accepting it. The stranger’s smile widened and he took a sip of his own cup, looking at him expectantly. Minho watched him blankly for another second before raising his cup to his lips as well and taking a sip.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when he tasted the hot chocolate, but a small sound escaped him anyway and the stranger chuckled.

“I’m Jonghyun,” he said after a moment of silence.

Minho contemplated whether to tell him his name or not, then thought it couldn’t hurt. The stranger – well, Jonghyun – was probably at the hospital for a reason similar to his own, if he wasn’t working there.

“Minho,” he grunted out and Jonghyun nodded, not saying anything else which left them sitting in comfortable silence, drinking their hot chocolate in peace.

Minho couldn’t help but think that maybe Jonghyun had been right yesterday, because he could feel the warmth of the beverage spread through his stomach and chest, making him feel a little better. He even managed a small smile at Jonghyun when he stood up to go back to Taemin's room. Jonghyun smiled back and waved.

Maybe Minho should drink hot chocolate more often; the stuff was quite effective.

 

 

* * *

  

 

Jonghyun repeatedly, but softly, hit his forehead against the wall beside the door to his grandmother’s hospital room, grumbling under his breath.

He kind of just blew his chance.

Well, at least it felt like he had kind of just blown his chance.

He had been right beside the troubled stranger he now knew was called Minho and what did he do? He lost all his ability to speak! There was so much he wanted to know and he had even taken the time to think of things to say in case he would meet him again as he made his way to the third floor. But when he finally saw him, every single coherent sentence just turned into empty echoing space inside his head and he was stuck with nothing helpful at all except for his own name.

It might have been a good thing though, Jonghyun consoled himself, since Minho had seemed more at ease when he didn’t say anything at all. Maybe he should just wait for him to start speaking instead. He was glad he had gotten to know his name at least.

“Minho,” he whispered to himself and smiled.

He liked the name, even if it was fairly common. It fit.

He shook himself out of his thoughts when he noticed a passing nurse, who he knew as nurse Song, eye him suspiciously. He gave her a small smile and a nod before quietly slipping into his grandmother’s room, which was only illuminated by the soft glow of the muted TV, stopping to watch her breathe peacefully for a moment. Then he walked over to her bedside and picked up the remote to turn the TV off, pulling her cover a little higher to tuck her in properly. After another moment of watching her, making sure everything seemed in order, he took his backpack and just as quietly left. He needed to get to work early the next morning and his apartment was closer to the hotel than the hospital.

Jonghyun entered the elevator and was about to press the button for the bottom floor when he suddenly realised he felt a little hungry. He had completely forgotten he was supposed to get something to eat as well when he had gone to the coffee machine. Minho had totally side tracked his mind.

He bit his lip in contemplation and eyed the buttons with the floor numbers, deciding he could as well get something small from the vending machine as he initially had planned and pressed the button for floor three determinedly.

He smiled at a few nurses he recognised as he made his way down the hallway to the vending machine for the second time that night, trying not to feed the thought of the possibility of meeting Minho again with any hope. The guy probably had other things to do than sit on the ugly green couch the entire night.

And quite predictably, the couch was as unoccupied as it used to be before Jonghyun had chanced upon the sad young man one night ago.

He let out a soft sigh and forced himself to not feel any sort of disappointment. Instead, he picked up his pace and chose something to munch on while he made his way home. He bent down to get the M ‘n M’s he had bought and straightened up in time to see another young man with golden hair step out of one of the many rooms in the hallway leading from the elevator to the vending machine. He was steering his steps away from Jonghyun, but not before a soft ‘ _Let’s go home and get some rest, Minho. I’ll get the car,’_  floated over to Jonghyun in the quiet night air.

Jonghyun's eyes widened and he unconsciously held his breath as he watched the blond man disappear down the hallway. For some reason he felt as if he was doing something he shouldn’t be and was risking getting caught – which was insane, because who wasn’t allowed to get something from the vending machine? Even if it was way past midnight.

He glanced around nervously anyway before almost tiptoeing over to the door the man had exited and peeking through the small window.

His breath caught when he saw Minho sitting hunched over in a chair by a bed on which a boy, who couldn’t be much younger than him, laid unmoving. He was very pale and had ugly looking bruises and cuts on his face, one of his arms was wrapped in a cast and he was hooked up to so many machines and tubes it had Jonghyun feeling extremely uneasy. As he looked between the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and the medical ventilator moving the boy’s chest with artificial breaths it suddenly hit him he was in the ward for intensive care, which meant that the boy on the bed was most likely in a coma.

Jonghyun chewed his bottom lip and his eyes shifted back to Minho, his heart feeling heavy at the sight of his dishevelled state – even more so now than before.

Minho was sitting with his back turned towards him, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair, not quite pulling but still keeping a tight grip on the dark strands as if it would keep him from falling apart completely. As he looked closer, he saw the smallest tremble in Minho's body. As if he was trying his best not to cry or was already letting tears fall while keeping his sobs in.

Jonghyun was chewing on his lip so hard by now he could taste blood and he wanted nothing more than to walk over and pull Minho into a hug.

But he didn’t. Because he didn’t have that privilege. He had not even had a proper  _conversation_  with Minho, so he couldn’t very well waltz into the room and comfort him.

So instead, he did what he had done the previous two times he had happened upon Minho – he went and bought him hot cocoa. It seemed like a good idea since Minho had at least looked a little better the other two times he had given it to him. Even if the second time had been just a few hours ago.

He started second-guessing himself as he made his way back a few minutes later with the warm beverage in hand, not sure how he would explain himself or if Minho would even want the cocoa. He stopped outside the door again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hesitating.

The ding from the elevator around the corner made him look up and his heart skipped a beat as the blond man returned, giving him a curious look. He looked kind enough, his hair not quite as tousled as Minho's, although it had probably seen better days as it was sticking up in different directions. His warm, brown eyes were bloodshot from either lack of sleep or crying or both and his clothes were rumpled.

“Hello?” he said, inquiring, as he came close enough and Jonghyun swallowed nervously, shrinking back and feeling very out of place suddenly. “Can I help you?”

“Um…” Jonghyun couldn’t find anything to say and blushed a little.

Then he decided he didn’t need to explain himself and held out the cup to the man, hoping Minho would understand when he got it.

The man eyed it sceptically, frowning slightly as he looked back up at him.

“What is that?”

“H-hot cocoa,” Jonghyun explained, fidgeting self-consciously under the scrutinizing stare of the new stranger.

A sudden flash of realisation passed the man’s features and his eyes widened.

“The stranger!” he exclaimed incredulously, although quietly, and Jonghyun flinched a little in surprise. “Huh, you seem alright,” he added, eyeing him again – only less suspicious and a lot more interested this time. “Minho really was telling the truth then.”

Jonghyun frowned in confusion but didn’t get the chance to ask as the man took the cup from his hand with a kind smile, which he returned hesitantly.

“This is for Minho, correct?” he asked and Jonghyun nodded bashfully. “Thank you.”

They both smiled at each other for a second before the man glanced through the window and let out a heavy sigh. Jonghyun followed his gaze and saw that the trembling in Minho's body had evolved to shaking and he clenched his fists at his sides, feeling utterly helpless.

“I need to get him home,” the man mumbled more to himself than for Jonghyun's benefit. Then he glanced at him. “He’s going to fall apart at this rate.”

Jonghyun gave him an understanding nod; feeling a little relived knowing that Minho wasn’t all alone at least while at the same time worrying over the man's words.

“Are you staying with him,” he asked after another silent moment of watching Minho cry, suddenly finding enough courage to ask questions.

The man looked back at him and shook his head.

“No,” he said sadly. “But I probably should. At least until Taemin wakes up.”

“Taemin, huh…” Jonghyun mumbled as he looked through the window at the boy in the bed. So that was his name.

“Yeah,” the man said. “He was hit by a speeding car and was lucky enough to survive, if you call needing life support lucky. He and Minho were really close so this has hit him really hard.”

“Oh…”

Well, at least he had a little more understanding of why Minho was so devastated. He was pretty sure that if his best friend ended up in a coma, he would just curl into a ball and cry his eyes out. Minho seemed to have some hold on himself, as he  interacted a little with others it would seem – which was a bit relieving.

And once again, Jonghyun was probably butting into someone else’s business. He shouldn’t let this affect him so much. They were practically still strangers.

Jonghyun bit his lip again and gave the two inside the room a last look before turning away with a soft sigh. The man gave him a small, wistful smile.

“Are you leaving?” he asked.

Jonghyun nodded.

“Well, it was nice meeting you…?” the man said, letting the end of his sentence trail off questioningly.

“Jonghyun,” he filled in and the man smiled.

“Jonghyun,” he repeated. “I’m Jinki. And thank you again for the chocolate. I’m sure Minho will like it.”

Jonghyun managed a small smile of his own. They gave each other a little wave in goodbye as one went down the hallway to the elevator and the other went back into the room.

There was something about Minho that made it hard for Jonghyun to stay away and mind his own business, he thought worriedly as he entered the elevator. And he didn’t particularly like admitting that he pretty much knew that ‘ _something_ ’ was a fair amount of attraction.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Here.”

Minho blinked at the paper cup shoved in his face when he stood up to turn towards Jinki after managing to calm his sobs.

Jinki had just returned from getting the car, having entered the room and quietly waited for Minho to collect himself enough to face him. Then he had walked up to him and gently patted his back in comfort before telling him they should leave before pushing that thing in his face without any sort of warning.

He ignored the cup in favour of drying his still wet cheeks, taking a shaky breath.

“What’s this?” Minho asked in a gravelly voice while giving Jinki a small scowl, not in the mood for any games.

“A gift,” he said cryptically and Minho's scowl intensified.

“Then gift it to yourself. I’m not interested,” he growled.

Jinki raised his eyebrows and pursed his mouth a little, though there was the slightest glint of amusement in his eyes.

“It’s not from me,” he said and Minho raised his own eyebrows questioningly. “It’s from a nice young man I ran into on my way back.”

Minho frowned in thought, for a moment not at all able to come up with who it could be. He was pretty sure that the only people he knew well enough to do such a thing in the hospital were Jinki and Taemin – one of which hadn’t moved a single nanometre for over seventy-two hours. Then his eyes fell onto the light brown liquid inside the cup and he almost let out a small snort while at the same time wanting to sink through the floor, the puzzle pieces falling into place.

Jonghyun.

Jonghyun had bought him another hot chocolate. Which probably meant Jonghyun had seen him through the window in the door and also witnessed him crying. And that was certainly not something Minho would like an almost stranger to see. He barely even let his parents see him cry.

He groaned quietly and Jinki let out a soft chuckle.

“I think you’ve made a good friend,” he said and Minho shot him a burning look. He rolled his eyes. “What? He was worried.”

“He saw me cry,” Minho grumbled, strangely embarrassed. “And I usually don’t cry. Besides, I’ve only met him two times, so I wouldn’t consider him that much of a friend.”

Jinki simply shook his head and pushed the cup into his hands, turning around to lead the way out the door.

Minho stared down at the hot chocolate for a moment, a little surprised at the calmness that washed over him at the sight, before he shook his head as well. He stepped over to Taemin's still form and placed a soft kiss on his forehead before slowly backing away towards the door with the promise of being back soon, not taking his eyes off him until he absolutely had to.

Jinki patiently waited for him just beside the door and they quietly made their way over to the elevator, Minho taking a small sip of the hot chocolate.

“Is it any good?” Jinki asked after he had taken another sip and they had shared a moment of silence as they rode the elevator.

He shrugged.

“I never saw the appeal of such a sugar bomb like this,” he muttered. “But Taemin loves it, and that guy you met says it helps when you feel down, so I guess it has its perks.”

Jinki let out a small, amused snort.

“So,  _does_  it make you feel better then?” he asked, glancing at him curiously as they stepped outside.

Minho looked down at the now half empty cup thoughtfully, taking another sip before handing it over to Jinki.

“I… guess…” he said uncertainly as he took the car keys Jinki gave him in return. He unlocked the car and they both got in before he continued. “It does kind of make me feel warmer and calmer, so yeah…”

“Hm,” Jinki hummed and took a sip as well. “It’s not so bad.”

Minho started the car and it was filled with silence for a moment as they drove a few blocks. Minho concentrated on the road in front of him while Jinki continued sipping on the hot chocolate, watching the passing buildings and people.

It had already become a lot quieter in Minho's life the past two days and he was sure it was going to stay that way for a while even if he had high hopes Taemin would come back soon. The quietness wouldn’t have been very notable hadn’t it been for the fact that Taemin often made all the noise since neither Minho nor Jinki felt the need to talk unnecessarily – although what Taemin said was  _never_  unnecessary to begin with. He was just always the one with a lot to say and made the atmosphere lighter. And even if Minho didn’t dislike the silence he often shared with Jinki and Jinki didn’t either, he knew both of them felt a little out of place without the babbling presence they were used to.

“I’m moving in with you,” Jinki suddenly stated softly as they neared his apartment complex, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“O…kay…?” Minho said slowly at the abruptness.

Not that he would mind. It was better than being alone, he guessed.

Jinki glanced over at him, his expression serious.

“I don’t want you to be alone at the moment and I would also feel calmer knowing you’re not hurting yourself.”

Minho pressed his lips together, narrowing his eyes at the red light they had stopped at.

Jinki had a right to worry. Minho knew he had seemed quite despaired. But that didn’t mean he liked putting his friend in that position and mind-set and it made him feel extremely guilty. He glanced at Jinki, who was still watching him seriously. Then he sighed and shook his head a little.

“Thank you, Hyung,” he mumbled. “I haven’t thought of harming myself except for the first day of Taemin's coma, though,” he tried to reassure. “But I know that won’t do anything. Besides, I don’t think I want to be alone anyway.”

Jinki smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

“Okay then. Let’s just get my stuff and then go buy something to eat,” he said. “I bet you haven’t eaten even though I told you to. There’s an open supermarket just around the corner from my apartment complex.”

Minho gave him a small smile in return, actually feeling a little relieved.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonghyun tiredly dragged himself through the sliding doors of the hospital’s entrance, greeting the receptionist with a listless wave of his hand and a weak smile before slowly making his way over to the elevator. There he let out an enormous yawn, leaning his head against the cool metal doors and waiting for the elevator to make its way down.

He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. The vision of Minho crying while trying so hard not to had kept him up for hours, making him toss and turn and resulting in him only managing to get an hour’s worth of sleep. It was ridiculous how Minho managed to make him that worried and anxious just after the two times of meeting him. And Jonghyun knew he was probably sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but he couldn’t stop himself. Even though it could potentially hurt very much if he continued with what he was doing.

He let out a heavy sigh, pressing his forehead harder against the cool metal.

A soft, surprised ‘ _Oh?_ ’ pulled him from his thoughts and he spun around so fast he got dizzy and stumbled backwards. His back hit the elevator doors, but not before a pair of warm, strong hands closed around his upper arms in an attempt to stop his fall. He looked up just in time to see a panicked Minho flail a little before his arms shot out and he stopped his body from crashing into Jonghyun by catching himself against the doors with a hand on either side of Jonghyun's head.

“Minho,” Jonghyun breathed incredulously after a beat of awkward silence staring at him, for the first time noticing how tall he was. His heart beat a little faster.

Minho looked down at him through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. Jonghyun could feel his face warm up and Minho's cheeks were also turning pink at their sudden close proximity.

“Uh, yeah…” Minho answered sheepishly, pushing away from the doors and taking a step back to put some more space between them, pulling a hand through his dark locks. “Hi.”

Jonghyun laughed lightly, not so discreetly staring at the motion of Minho's hand. He tried but couldn't help feeling the slightest bit disappointed the space between them had increased. His heart was still racing a little.

“Hi,” he said anyway, managing to sound normal enough though he felt anything but.

Minho let his hand continue to the back of his head and scratched it awkwardly, looking sideways. Jonghyun couldn’t tear his eyes away from his ruffled hair. He wanted to reach out and touch it, put it back in place. Minho cleared his throat, forcing him to snap his eyes back down to his face. They stared at each other.

“Um, sorry about…” Minho started in a mumble after a few seconds of silence and gestured meekly at Jonghyun, who raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Startling you and all…”

“That’s okay,” Jonghyun reassured hurriedly. “I was too caught up in my own thoughts, so it’s really not your fault.”

The sudden ding indicating the elevator had arrived made them both jump and they had to step aside to let an elderly man slowly make his way out. Realising he was too lethargic to make it out before the doors would close, Jonghyun swiftly pressed the button to hold them open for him, smiling and bowing as the man gave him a small, thankful bow of his own.

Then he watched the old man make his way down the hallway, to make sure he would be all right. When he was halfway down Jonghyun deemed him safe enough and looked back at Minho, giving him an apologetic wrinkle of his nose.

“Sorry. Are you going up?” he asked and Minho nodded after a silent moment of staring at him. “Cool, then we can go together.”

Minho's lips quirked the slightest and he followed Jonghyun inside the elevator, pressing the button for floor three while Jonghyun pressed number five. They watched the doors close in silence before Minho let out a soft sigh, his expression turning heavy.

Jonghyun bit his lip, stealing several quick glances at him, and contemplated whether he should ask or not.

“Um–”

“So–”

They had both spoken at the same time. Jonghyun chuckled nervously and gestured for Minho to speak first.

“You can go first,” he said.

Minho gave him another nod.

“I just wanted to say thank you for the hot chocolate yesterday,” he mumbled and Jonghyun smiled warmly, blushing a little again. “My friend told me you had bought it,” he added as an explanation.

“Oh yeah, Jinki,” Jonghyun said as he remembered the blond man from last night.

“Yeah…” Minho trailed off, looking a little embarrassed.

The elevator slowed to a stop before either of them could say anything else and Minho glanced at him. Jonghyun smiled again and gave him a small wave as he stepped out.

“I guess I’ll see you in the middle of the night… if you’re up for another hot cocoa, that is,” Jonghyun said, pulling up a shoulder and trying no to sound too hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” Minho said as the doors started closing. “Bye, Jonghyun."

Leaning back against the wall, Jonghyun bit his lip and let the blush he had tried to keep down ever since Minho had almost fallen on top of him blossom in full.

_God,_  did he like the way Minho said his name.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho had not expected to see the short – he noticed now – blond man he had met the two previous nights by the elevators as he returned to the hospital after having given Jinki a ride to work. It completely took him by surprise and he suddenly felt a little nervous for some reason, not able to stop the strange anticipation rising in him.

And he couldn’t stop the soft, surprised ‘ _Oh?_ ’ that left his mouth either, however much he wanted to.

Jonghyun spun around so fast he lost his balance. Minho instinctively reached out to grab his arms in an attempt to keep him from crashing into the elevator doors, but the momentum of their movements pulled him forward as well and he panicked for a moment, not wanting to crash into Jonghyun. He managed to put his arms up and catch himself against the cool metal behind him.

“Minho,” he heard Jonghyun breathe incredulously after an awkward moment of silence.

He looked down through the hair that had fallen into his eyes to see him staring up at him with wide, surprised eyes, only then realising how close they were. He couldn’t help the faint blush that warmed his cheeks and saw Jonghyun's face turn pink as well.

“Uh, yeah…” he said sheepishly in lack of a better greeting and pushed away from Jonghyun, taking a step back as well to put some more space between them. He had been far too close for comfort.

“Hi,” he remembered to add as he pulled his hand through his hair to get it back in order.

Jonghyun let out a little laugh and Minho felt silly for the lame greeting. He scratched the back of his head, feeling all around awkward for what had happened a few seconds ago, and couldn't quite bring himself to look at Jonghyun.

Suddenly he remembered the few times he had ended up in awkward situations with Taemin and how he would let out a low laugh at Minho's beet-red face; memories which usually put a goofy smile on his face but now only made a lump grow in his throat and a cold spread through his stomach and chest. He wanted to rip his brain out.

“Hi,” Jonghyun greeted back, pulling him back to reality again, which he was quite thankful for.

Minho gave him a quick glance and cleared his throat. Jonghyun hadn’t seemed to notice his moment of zooning out as he had been staring at his hair. It must be looking dishevelled again.

“Um, sorry about,” Minho started in a mumble, not quite sure how he should phrase his apology. Jonghyun raised his eyebrows at him questioningly and he felt even sillier. “Startling you and all…” he continued anyway.

A look of understanding passed Jonghyun's features.

“That’s okay,” he reassured. “I was too caught up in my own thoughts, so it’s really not your fault.”

Minho was about to argue that he still should apologise when the ding of the elevator distracted him and he and Jonghyun had to step aside to let an old man pass by them. Jonghyun politely pressed the button to keep the doors open since the man was taking ages to get out and then proceeded to watch him until he had made it halfway down the hallway, apparently deeming him stable enough. Which was actually kind of sweet of him. Minho had never met anyone that thoughtful of others, especially strangers, and it amazed him a little.

Jonghyun turned to him again and he suddenly felt caught, as if he had been cheating or stealing or something of the like.

“Are you going up?” Jonghyun asked, apparently not noticing how put on the spot Minho felt.

Minho nodded.

“Cool,” Jonghyun said. “Then we can go together.”

As he followed him into the elevator, Minho couldn’t help the twitch of the corners of his mouth at the exited expression on Jonghyun's face, as if he was a child who had just gotten a ticket to some theme park or something. His heart stuttered painfully as he remembered Taemin would sometimes have that same excited look, whenever they went out to go to a café or on a trip or to the cinema.

He let out a small sigh and in an attempt to get his mind of painful topics he opened his mouth to thank Jonghyun for the hot chocolate, which he kind of just remembered.

Only, Jonghyun opened his mouth at the same time to say something too and they fell silent again after speaking simultaneously. Then Jonghyun let out a chuckle, gesturing for him to speak.

“You can go first,” he said and Minho nodded his thanks.

“I just wanted to say thank you for the hot chocolate,” he mumbled and glanced up in time to see Jonghyun smile warmly while blushing a little. “My friend told me you had bought it,” he added as an explanation.

“Oh yeah, Jinki,” Jonghyun said and Minho felt a little weird having him know the name of one of his best friends.

“Yeah…” he said slowly, trailing off since he really didn’t have anything better to say. He certainly didn’t feel like explaining why he had been crying in the first place… and now he was feeling embarrassed that a guy he barely knew had witnessed him break down. Great.

Minho was about to ask him to continue what he had wanted to say earlier but didn’t have the time as they arrived at the third floor. He glanced at Jonghyun and received a white-toothed smile along with a small wave.

“I guess I’ll see you in the middle of the night,” he said with a half shrug. Then added; “If you’re up for another hot cocoa, that is.”

Minho wasn’t sure if he was up for it at all and he hesitated, not wanting to give Jonghyun too much hope but not wanting to disappoint him either.

He settled for a:

“Yeah, maybe.”

The doors started closing then and Minho decided he could be at least a little more polite than he had been up until that point.

“Bye, Jonghyun,” he hurried to say just right before the doors closed completely.

The name felt foreign in his mouth. It was a nice name, though, he thought as he turned and made his way over to Taemin's room with a heavy feeling in his heart, which he had managed to forget during the few seconds it had taken him to ride the elevator with Jonghyun.

He might need that hot chocolate after all.

 

  

* * *

 

 

  

Minho had been sitting in the chair by Taemin's bed for hours, watching him with a small lump in his throat and talking to him every now and then. The initial silliness he had felt at speaking to an unresponsive person had completely gone. It was actually kind of calming – like meditating – and he could lift some of his burden by just talking himself hoarse even if it still pained him Taemin wasn’t responding. He told him about the last few days, how much he missed him and how he was trying to be strong, for his sake as well as the people around him. He even mentioned his and Jinki's search for his mother, although he wasn’t sure what Taemin would think of it.

Once they had decided she should at least be informed about Taemin's accident they had taken turns looking her up. So far, Minho had found out she had moved away from the house she and Taemin had lived in to a small country town. Then Jinki had found out she had been to rehab – Minho had known she had problems with alcohol, so it wasn’t all that surprising – for a few years and that when she was released she had most likely changed her name and moved once again to get a fresh start. So, now all that was left was trying to find out her new name and address, which the authorities weren’t quite that keen on relying to strangers, even if they stressed they needed to tell her vital information about her son.

“Choi Minho?” a woman’s voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

Minho turned in his seat, reluctantly looking away from the ever so still and pale form of Taemin to face the speaker, who was watching him from the doorway. Her hair was long and blank, reflecting the fluorescent light coming from the corridor, and she was wearing a white coat which covered her grey pencil skirt and light pink blouse, making her look cold and professional.

“Yes?” he answered her questioningly.

She smiled a little – so detached and pitying it looked kind of horrible – and walked up to him, holding out a hand. Frowning, he shook it in mild confusion.

“I take it doctor Nam has not told you about my department yet,” she said, still smiling in that ugly way and it was starting to weird Minho out. She looked like she had practiced that expression in front of her bathroom mirror to perfection in an attempt to be professional. He had a bad feeling about this. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Minho said slowly. “What department?”

“I’m doctor Song. I’m a grief counsellor here at the hospital,” the woman explained, sounding unnervingly patient.

Oh.

_Oh_.

“Okay…” Minho automatically leaned away from her a little. “What are you doing here, though? I’m not grieving.”

Doctor Song watched him, still with that detached pity clear in her eyes, and Minho decided he disliked her quite a bit. He felt as if he was being judged behind her carefully placed expression, and it didn’t seem to leave a good impression on her either.

“I’m here to speak to you about the inevitable,” she said in what she must have believed was a soothing manner but only made him want to punch her in the face. His fists clenched and his jaw tensed. “You will need someone to talk to about your loss and grief. I am that someone.”

Correction; Minho was starting to loathe her.

“I’m sorry, doctor Song,” he ground out through his teeth, trying to sound polite which was near impossible since she was clearly making assumptions about him already without having even talked to him more than five minutes. “But I haven’t lost anything and if I would need someone to talk to, it certainly wouldn’t be some half-assed pitying stranger like you.”

The fake pity in doctor Song’s eyes intensified and Minho felt like strangling her. If she was going to try and help him, the least she could do was be sincere about it – which at the moment was the furthest from what she seemed to be.

“I understand this is hard for you Minho, but opening up to and confronting your feelings will help you in the long run.” She patted his hand.

Minho was really,  _really_  close to punching her.

“It’s okay to cry.”

She moved to put an arm around his shoulders and Minho practically flew from his seat, backing away from her.

“Okay, you know what?” he growled, all mannerisms flying out the window. “I don’t feel like talking to you, or seeing you ever again, so would you kindly leave me with my  _grief_  and go help someone who appreciates your rehearsed crap.”

She continued looking at him with fake pity for a few moments more before pulling a small, white card out of her pocket and handing it to him. He took it reluctantly, hoping it would make her go away.

“I want you to call me when you’re ready to talk and accept what is happening,” she said in that same soothing-but-not-really voice. “We can make it through this together, Minho.”

He simply gave her a tight nod and then she finally left, casting one last revolting glance back at him. As soon as the door closed behind her and her blank hair disappeared from view in the small window Minho tore the card with doctor Song’s details to shreds and tossed them in the bin by Taemin's bed, barely refraining from burning the entire thing up as well.

To hell with shrinks and their snarky, know-it-all attitudes. He didn’t need their fake concern and the  _I-understand-but-not-really_  looks or comments. He just needed some peace of mind, which he was certain no shrink could give him no matter how much they picked at his brain and  _emotions_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Jonghyun, dear.”

Jonghyun looked up from the newspaper he was reading – or trying to read, if his mind hadn’t been so occupied by a certain ‘almost-stranger’ and making him read the same line over and over again – and at his grandmother, who was resting in her bed. She opened her eyes to look at him with a small smile.

“I would like some tea, but I’m quite tired,” she said. “Could you go get some for me?”

“Of course.” He stood up immediately, dropping his newspaper on the other bed in the room where he was going to sleep since he didn’t have work tomorrow. “Would you like something to eat too?”

“No, just tea is fine,” she said and closed her eyes again.

Jonghyun bit his lip, feeling a little worried about her tiredness. His grandmother usually had her up and downs, it was nothing new really. It still managed to scare him every time she just spent the day in bed when her energy level was too low to do much else besides dozing off or listening to the radio or TV. Those instances made him realise how fragile and old she actually was.

He shook his head a little to get rid of the disturbing thoughts as he made his way over to the nurse’s kitchen just a few doors away. He was always welcome to use their kitchen if he wanted, which was where he usually got his grandmother her tea. He spent so much time at the hospital that most nurses on the third floor knew him pretty well and treated him like one of them; letting him come and go whenever he needed, and even sit down and eat with them when his grandmother was on a check-up or in physiotherapy. The hot cocoa, however, was always best down on the third floor for some reason.

And it was even better now that he had someone to share it with, he thought bashfully, feeling a little silly as a small smile stretched his lips while his thoughts once again wandered off to Minho. Why in the world was he this into him?

“That boy is a hard nut to crack,” a woman’s voice interrupted his thoughts as he entered the nurse’s kitchen. He almost jumped, for a crazy moment thinking he had said his thoughts out loud and received an answer. “He won’t last long if he doesn’t let himself feel.”

Jonghyun frowned when he realised she was talking to someone else and rounded the corner to the eating area to be met by the sight of a woman in a long white coat conversing with another woman in baby pink scrubs. He didn’t recognise any of them and just kind of awkwardly gave them a small nod as they glanced at him before going back to their conversation.

“You know boys, they tend to bury their feelings to not show weakness,” the woman in pink said wisely and Jonghyun raised his eyebrows to himself as he passed them.

“He was certainly very mean, too,” the coat woman sniffed. “I mean, I’m just doing my job. Couldn’t he show some respect?”

Jonghyun quietly made his way over to the counter, filling the water boiler and turning it on before taking a cup from the cupboard above it and putting a few green tealeaves in it, doing his best not to eavesdrop too much. It was kind of hard though, what with them being so close in the small kitchen and all.

“Anyone in his position would have been smart enough to talk,” the coat woman continued and something in her tone was ticking Jonghyun off. Was she even sincere in trying to help this person she was talking about? It sure didn’t sound like it. “He’s not going to come very far the way he handles the situation. Everyone needs someone to talk to at times like these, in order to lighten their sorrow.”

_Everyone needs someone to talk to in order to lighten their sorrow_ …

Immediately, Jonghyun's thoughts went to Minho and the sight of his shaking shoulders as he tried to keep his tears from falling, his dishevelled look and the desperate, panicked shine in his eyes. Did he have someone to talk to? Jinki seemed more than willing to help, but something told him Minho didn’t want to burden his friend with his own sadness. Taemin was friends with both of them, if he had understood correctly, which likely put them in the same position, with the same grief and helplessness.

The boiler finished and he heaved a heavy sigh, his frown deepening as he poured the hot water into the cup. He left the two gossiping women to continue their conversation in private with another small nod goodbye, which they ignored.

Maybe he could try and talk to Minho, Jonghyun thought as he entered his grandmother’s room and found her asleep. He put the cup down on her bedside table and made himself comfortable in his bed again with a sigh, picking up the newspaper to continue his attempt at reading it. He knew he was meddling too much in business that had nothing to do with him, and Minho was most likely going to be fed up with him sooner rather than later, but he was still very much interested in the other, which in turn made him want to help him however he could. Minho seemed like a good guy and Jonghyun kind of really wanted to see a smile on his face just once. A real, radiating, toothy, toothpaste commercial one and not the small quirks of his lips he had witnessed before.

That was really all there should be to it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho stared down at the message on his screen tiredly, rubbing one of his eyes before letting out a deep sigh and looking up at Taemin's pale face.

“We found her,” he murmured, glancing down at the text from Jinki again. “We found your mother.”

There was no response. Not that he had expected any either.

“I’m going to go talk to her tomorrow,” Minho continued anyway, putting his phone back in his pocket and dragging both hands over his face. “She should know about your accident and it’s my last free day too. Which also means I can’t be here as much, but I’ll try and come as often as I can. I promise you won’t be lonely.”

If Taemin was awake he’d most likely roll his eyes and tell Minho to stop fussing so much and just go back to work already and it made a lump grow in his throat. Minho had become really emotional in the few days he had spent by Taemin's bedside, but he couldn’t help it.  He really missed the younger’s bright smiles and cheerfulness, especially as he stared at the motionless state he now was in.

“Did I tell you about Jonghyun?” he asked, saying the first thing that came to mind as he tried to distract himself. “He’s a nice guy. Maybe a little of a busybody, but yeah… Jinki likes him too, I think. He keeps buying me hot chocolate from the coffee machine. He seems to like it just as much as you do…”

Minho swallowed harshly before sighing and grabbing one lifeless hand. He squeezed it lightly while watching the heart monitor steadily record every beat of Taemin's heart.

“I really want you to wake up, Minnie,” he whispered, his voice breaking. Then he let his head fall onto the mattress, pressing his forehead into the coarse, yellow fabric of Taemin's blanket. “It’s only been two and a half days but it feels like forever and I don’t want the doctors to come and tell me it’s useless and that I should stop your life support. I can’t, Taemin. I can’t deal with that.”

A few tears dropped down onto the blanket, turning it a shade darker, and Minho drew in a ragged breath.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, you know that right?” he asked shakily. “I won’t ever let them kill you.”

Of course, there was still no answer from the pale body on the bed and Minho just let all his gates open, letting his tears flow freely as he sobbed into the blanket.

 

 

* * *

 

 

To say Jonghyun was nervous when he stepped off the elevator on the third floor later that night was an understatement. He didn’t know if he would find Minho on the couch like he had the previous evenings or if he had decided that Jonghyun was too nosey and would be avoiding him from now on.

His nervousness disappeared immediately when he saw the sprawled out figure of a dozing Minho. He stopped for a second, watching how his head leaned back against the wall behind the couch and how his long legs were stretched out before him, his arms folded over his chest. Then he approached him quietly, eyeing him tentatively as he gingerly sat down beside him. Minho didn’t show any sort of reaction and Jonghyun was tempted to reach out and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face. He didn’t, however, and just simply let his eyes roam over the quite handsome face before him.

Minho had even darker bags under his eyes than he had had the first night they met and he was frowning in his sleep, his lips pressed together while his jaw clenched and unclenched. His breathing was hitching every now and then as well, and it made Jonghyun wonder if he had been crying recently.

Suddenly, Minho tensed and opened his eyes slowly. Jonghyun froze, feeling caught doing something he really shouldn’t. Well, he actually  _was_  kind of caught doing something he really shouldn’t. He had been staring at Minho without his permission while he was sleeping after all. If that didn’t spell creepy, he didn’t know what did.

Minho blinked a few times before his eyes focused on Jonghyun. Recognition flashed in his eyes and he sat up a little straighter, dragging a hand over his face tiredly.

“Hi,” Jonghyun murmured with a small smile. He could feel his cheeks warm a little.

“Hi,” Minho answered gruffly.

Jonghyun chuckled at the disoriented expression on his face before standing up, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I came for my nightly hot cocoa,” he said, mentally giving himself a pat on the shoulder for managing to sound so casual. “Do you want some?”

Minho didn’t answer him and he glanced back over his shoulder to see him frown down at his hands. As if Minho felt him looking, he slowly raised his head, meeting Jonghyun's gaze.

“I… don’t know…”

Jonghyun's hand, which had been halfway raised to put coins in the coffee machine, fell to his side again. He retraced the few steps he had taken to sit back down, silently watching him, waiting.

“Why do you drink hot chocolate?” Minho murmured after a long moment of silence.

Jonghyun tilted his head in thought.

“Well…” he said slowly. “It’s just kind of a tradition I started.” Minho glanced at him questioningly and Jonghyun smiled. “I’m here a lot since my grandmother is in the long term care ward. I usually stay until late, if I don’t sleep here, and to get a little more energy I drink hot cocoa. It gives me a little boost and makes me feel a little better no matter how tired or how bad my day has been.”

Minho leaned back against the couch again, sinking down in it with a deep sigh, and closed his eyes, looking like he was thinking this new information over.

“Why do you keep buying it for me, though?” he asked.

Jonghyun's smile widened.

“Because you look like you need it.” Then he frowned slightly. “Unless, you want something else? I won’t buy you any alcohol though.”

The corners of Minho's lips quirked and he opened one eye to peer at him.

“Okay,” he murmured and Jonghyun laughed lightly.

“So?” he asked. “Do you want?”

Minho looked thoughtful for a moment, his already miniscule smile falling. Then he nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

It sounded sad and distant, making Jonghyun's smile fall as well. But he got up again without asking, put the coins in the machine and waited for it to finish. Soon they were both sitting with a paper cup each, Minho staring down at the contents of his dejectedly while Jonghyun kept his eyes trained on his face and tried coming up with anything relatively smart or comforting to say.

“I’m scared,” Minho suddenly muttered and Jonghyun couldn’t help but start a little.

“Yeah,” he murmured back. “It’s understandable.”

Minho turned his gaze on him, looking lost and helpless.

“I don’t know what to do. How to help him.”

“I…” Jonghyun paused; unsure of what to say, assuming  _‘him_ ’ was Taemin. “I guess you just have to be… brave…”

“Brave?” Minho frowned.

Jonghyun smiled somberly.

“Yeah, you know, be brave enough to not give in and let everything just eat you up, to face it head on and have faith.”

“Have faith…” Minho echoed and raised his eyebrows ever so little. “Are you religious?”

“Nah,” Jonghyun chuckled. “Don’t have the attention span or time for it.”

Minho smiled the slightest.

“You know, sometimes it can be a lot easier to talk to a person you don’t know all that well,” Jonghyun said softly, turning serious again. “And I don’t really have anywhere to be at the moment, since I’m staying the night here.”

Minho's smile fell and he looked away. Jonghyun squirmed in his seat a little. Maybe he had crossed a line? But he just wanted to ease Minho's pain and sorrow, even if just a tiny bit. He really was too much of a busy-body, wasn’t he? Why hadn’t Minho punched him yet?

He chewed his bottom lip anxiously, watching Minho swallow harshly a few times and blink rapidly, most likely trying to keep tears from falling. It was very quiet for a while; Jonghyun couldn’t even seem to hear the heart monitors around them as he watched Minho clearly debate with himself on what to do. Then Minho looked at him again, swallowing one last time before opening his mouth.

“Taemin and I,” he started hoarsely, “are very close. I look out for him and he always has my back. We do everything together. We are best friends and when he ran away and started living with my family we… we became more like… brothers.”

Jonghyun smiled softly, trying to keep from frowning at the hesitation in Minho's words. Then Minho suddenly smiled and Jonghyun barely managed to keep his jaw from falling to the floor. His heart did a weird stutter in his chest as he watched the smile light up his entire face, filling it with warmth and colour.

“Taemin is always so cheery and talkative,” Minho continued. “He runs into my room every morning to open the blinds and jump on my bed to wake me up with his chatter, he completely disregards my personal space and has no boundaries with his teasing and when I try to scold him he just bursts out laughing in the middle and I can’t even stay mad at him. But even then he is considerate in the way he always has coffee brewed for me and the table set for breakfast or when he goes out of his way to help the old woman next door with her grocery bags or when he makes faces at babies on the bus to get them to smile.” He laughed a little and Jonghyun's breath got stuck in his throat. “He never lets anything get him down for too long and always ends up making those around him smile in some way or another.”

“He sounds really nice,” Jonghyun murmured, his heart still fluttering in his chest at the soft, happy expression on Minho's face and the sudden string of words flowing out of him.

Minho looked at him, a sparkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there before making him seem almost proud.

“He is,” he said softly. “The nicest person I’ve ever met even though his childhood was hard.”

“Oh?”

Minho's face fell and he frowned down at his hands, sighing deeply.

“His mother wasn’t really the… loving, motherly type…” he said slowly. Then he glanced at Jonghyun again and let out a soft snort. “Why am I even telling you all this?”

Jonghyun gave him a gentle smile and dared to reach out and grab the hand that wasn’t holding the paper cup. Minho's eyes snapped to his in surprise and he blinked confusedly before giving a tiny, unsure smile back, once again disrupting the already unsteady beat of Jonghyun's heart.

“Does his mother know?” Jonghyun asked quietly after a beat of silence and Minho bit his lip.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m planning to go see her tomorrow and tell her.”

Jonghyun nodded.

“Is Jinki going with you?”

Minho frowned and shook his head.

“He has to work and since tomorrow’s my last day before I have to go back to work too we decided I should do it. She lives a few hours out of town.”

Jonghyun chewed his lip nervously for a moment, watching Minho as he stared back down into his cup.

He contemplated if he should offer to accompany him to see Taemin's mother. It couldn’t be easy to go talk to someone who didn’t seem the least bit interested in the one you held close to your heart. He didn’t want Minho to feel worthless or put the blame on himself for failing. At what, he didn’t know, but he knew he wanted to make sure Minho knew he wasn’t at fault. So he mustered up all the courage he had and opened his mouth.

“Do you want company?”

Once again, Minho looked up at him in utter surprise. He stared at him, a small frown forming between his eyebrows.

“I-I mean,” Jonghyun continued quickly, wondering if he had come on too strong, “only if you feel like you don’t want to do it alone. It can be a little difficult, I imagine.”

Minho's frown deepened and he looked down at their still connected hands. Jonghyun quickly withdrew his as if he had been burned, feeling irrationally awkward and out of place all of a sudden. Minho continued to look at the back of his own hand for a moment before raising his eyes to Jonghyun's again.

“I…” he said, looking a little confused. “Well… if you want?”

Jonghyun could feel his face grow hot and looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Uh, y-yeah I,” he stuttered, “I-it could make it easier?”

It sounded so unsure that Jonghyun blushed even harder and just wanted to shrink in on himself. He was handling this like a moron. He hadn’t even thought before opening his stupid mouth and now Minho most likely thought he was a nosey idiot and would start yelling at him.

“Okay,” Minho murmured.

Jonghyun flinched before realising he had actually accepted his offer and looked back up at him. Minho met his gaze and gave him a small, unsure smile, which made a soft warmth spread in Jonghyun’s chest. He could feel it in his cheeks as well and he fought with all his might to not let a silly smile spread on his lips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  

The next day Jonghyun slowly made his way down to the third floor, pausing for a moment just before he had to turn the corner to walk down the hallway where the coffee machine was. But this time he wasn’t there for his hot cocoa.

This time he was going to one of the rooms at the beginning of the hallway instead of making his way to the end of it.

He had reassured Minho that it would be easier if he came and picked him up in Taemin's room so they could go on their little outing. Jonghyun really wanted to think of it as some sort of date – and Kibum had continuously called it The Date in his texts when Jonghyun had told him – but then he remembered the way Minho's eyes lit up when he spoke of Taemin and couldn’t bring himself to put any romantic effort into it.

He sighed and determinedly turned the corner, stalking the few steps he needed to reach the door before looking inside through its window, relieved to see Minho sitting there holding Taemin's hand.

He knocked on the window gently as a warning before opening the door. Minho threw a glance over his shoulder and gave the tiniest smile.

“I guess I should introduce you two,” he murmured when Jonghyun reached his side. “Jonghyun, this is Taemin.”

Jonghyun smiled gently at the still very motionless boy on the bed.

“Hi,” he greeted softly.

“I already told Taemin about you,” Minho sighed. “The doctors keep telling me I should speak to him to try and keep his brain active. I don’t know how to do that when I’ll be at work the entire day until late.”

“I think he’ll be happy you’re just coming at all,” Jonghyun said. “And Jinki.”

Minho nodded, squeezed Taemin's hand once and stood up.

“Shall we go?”

It was Jonghyun who nodded this time. There was an uncomfortable tug at his heart as Minho bent down and placed a kiss on Taemin's forehead with a soft ‘ _see you soon’,_ but he forced the feeling away. Minho led the way out of the room and to the elevator, which they took down to the garage in silence as neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“Thank you,” Minho suddenly uttered when they were in the car. He glanced at Jonghyun before turning the key in the ignition. “For doing this, I mean.”

Jonghyun offered a weak smile.

“Nah, I don’t have anything better to do and my nan is playing bingo with the other oldies in her ward,” he said off-handedly.

Minho snorted as they left the garage.

“You’re strange,” he mumbled and Jonghyun let out a short laugh. “But nice.”

Jonghyun couldn’t help the faint blush on his cheeks. He bit his lip again and looked out at the passing buildings.

He was being stupid. He should really just ask Minho to stop the car, get out and avoid him for the rest of eternity. It was clear now, how much Taemin actually meant to Minho and while Jonghyun admired the devotion he could see in Minho's eyes and the love and care he put into his actions in handling Taemin, even if the boy was unconscious, it struck a painful chord in his chest and filled it with melancholy.

But Jonghyun was nothing if not compassionate. It was one of his many flaws, and it would really make it difficult for him this time. Because, not only did he want to help Minho, he also had managed to develop quite a crush on him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonghyun was acting weird.

Granted, Minho couldn’t claim he knew him well enough to actually know he was acting weird. But something seemed off. He wasn’t able to put his finger on it, as Jonghyun was smiling and talking the same way he had done the other times they had met.

Minho glanced over at him, watching his profile as he lip-synced to the songs on the radio they had turned on to fill the silence.

“So, uh…” he cleared his throat and Jonghyun turned his eyes to him, wide and curious. “I just… want to thank you again… you know, for doing this.”

Talk about being awkward. He chanced another glance at Jonghyun and saw that he was smiling softly again. Something still didn’t feel quite right about it.

“Anyway, we should be arriving soon,” Minho added and started looking at the street names.

They had been driving for nearly three hours and he had only realised halfway through he forgot his GPS. And as if that wasn’t enough, Jonghyun didn’t have his phone with him and Minho's was almost out of battery. He would rather look at a map than to waste the battery in case an emergency happened at the hospital.

They had to stop and ask for directions after a while since neither Jonghyun nor Minho could make heads or tails of the map they had bought. It took them another half hour to find the small, rural area Taemin's mother supposedly lived in now. Minho had to park a bit further away, as cars couldn’t enter the small pedestrian streets that weaved between the houses.

He let out a sigh and fiddled with his fingers nervously on the steering wheel after having turned the engine off. He couldn’t quite bring himself to exit the car yet.

This felt like such a bad idea, all of a sudden. He didn’t want to see the life Taemin's mother had built after abandoning Taemin. Minho loved him too much to be able to feel neutral about it and now he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle it.

Suddenly a hand covered one of his and he jumped a little. He had almost forgotten Jonghyun was in the car with him in his growing stress. He looked at him with wide eyes and Jonghyun smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “We could always just leave her a note if you don’t think you can face her.”

Minho blinked at him, wondering how Jonghyun could be so good at reading his emotions. Then he shook his head, feeling a little better with the support.

“No, it’s fine. I just need to gather my thoughts,” he murmured and Jonghyun's hand squeezed his before letting go.

Minho kind of wished he hadn’t. It had grounded him to the present and calmed him down somewhat. But instead of grabbing his hand again he sighed once more, opening his door.

“Let’s go.”

Jonghyun followed him and they walked side by side down the street, Jonghyun's arm brushing against his a few times. It felt oddly comforting and Minho was suddenly extremely glad he had offered to come with him. He didn’t think he would have been able to do this on his own.

“Oh!” Jonghyun exclaimed suddenly and Minho looked at him questioningly.

He ignored him and bent down to pick up a dandelion only to hold it in front of Minho's face. Minho raised an eyebrow, looking at Jonghyun sceptically. Jonghyun shrugged, but a grin spread on his lips all the same.

“When I was little, my grandmother used to tell me to put a whish onto a dandelion and then blow on it so it could be carried by the wind to the angels,” he explained.

Minho's lips pulled up and he couldn’t help the soft snort that left him.

“Hey, don’t laugh! It’s the wisdom of my nan!” Jonghyun scolded playfully.

Minho shook his head and accepted the flower, looking at it thoughtfully.

What he wanted most at the moment was for everything to go back to normal. He wanted Taemin to be awake, his parents to be home and his days to be free of stress. He wanted to rid his chest of all the ‘ _what if?_ ’s and tell Taemin what he never had gotten the chance to. He wanted Taemin to know how important he was to him, now more than ever, as he was about to face his mother.

He closed his eyes while he concentrated on the wish, imagining it clinging to the seeds of the dandelion like small water drops. Then he looked at it again and blew on it lightly. The small seeds came loose and flew away, high up into the air, dancing with the breeze.

He glanced up to see Jonghyun watching him intently, a soft expression in his eyes. Minho suddenly felt silly and cleared his throat, turning away.

“Anyway,” he said as he started to walk again. “Her house should be this way.”

Jonghyun followed silently and Minho didn’t dare look back at him out of embarrassment. They continued to walk in their own thoughts until Minho spotted a light yellow house that had the right number on it. His steps faltered and his breath stopped. Suddenly snakes came alive in his stomach and he bit his lip.

Gentle fingers brushed against his shoulder and he looked at Jonghyun who gave him an encouraging nod. Minho nodded back and gathered enough courage to start moving again.

Silence continued to rest in the air between them as they made it to the front step. Jonghyun caught his hand to squeeze it once before leting it go and Minho gave him a grateful nod. Then he took a deep breath, pressed the button and held his breath. They heard a ringing sound from the inside and a muffled voice shouting something.

It seemed both of them were holding their breaths as there was a shuffle right behind the door and it creaked open to reveal a little girl, who couldn’t be older than five. She stared up at them with wide, curious eyes.

Minho froze, his heart sinking with dread, but Jonghyun immediately smiled and crouched down.

“Hey there, sweetie,” he greeted cheerily. “Are your parents home?”

The girl nodded shyly, glancing between them. Minho simply stared at her, shocked and scared and angry all at the same time. He had been prepared, but still…

“Can you get them for us?” Jonghyun asked and she nodded again. “Thank you.”

Jonghyun straightened up as the girl turned around to look for her parents and the smile fell from his face.

“Maybe we got the wrong house?” he murmured, but he didn’t sound as if he believed his own words.

Minho could only frown and try to remember how to breathe. How would he explain this to Taemin? How could he?

Soon, a middle-aged woman appeared in the doorway. Her hair was shoulder length and lush, her eyes bright and her skin looked flush and healthy – completely different than the last time Minho had seen her, when she had just been tired and grey.

Taemin's mother.

Her polite smile faltered as her eyes landed on Minho and he could see her pale.

“Choi Minho?” she asked, sounding scared.

He nodded tersely. He felt Jonghyun's worried gaze but couldn’t take his eyes off Taemin's mother.

“Mrs. Lee,” he forced out.

She bit her lip and swallowed harshly.

“It’s Mrs. Park, now,” she nearly whispered.

They stared at each other in silence, Minho in angry disbelief and Mrs. Park in guilt, until Jonghyun cleared his throat. They looked at him and he smiled wistfully.

“Hello Mrs. Park, I’m Jonghyun,” he introduced himself. “Minho and I have something we need you to know.”

Minho was once again very glad Jonghyun was there; he wouldn’t have been able to get another word out. He was already on the verge of turning on his heel and running away.

Mrs. Park glanced between them worriedly but nodded and stepped aside to let them in.

“Thank you,” Jonghyun said and pushed Minho in front of him.

She led them past a nicely decorated living room with trinkets from all over the world and to a homey kitchen, where the little girl was sitting at the table, colouring.

“Areum, honey, could you go to your room?” Mrs. Park said to the girl and she looked up at them, staring for a moment before nodding.

Areum quietly slipped from the chair, bringing her crayons and papers with her, and left with one last curious look over her shoulder. Mrs. Park fiddled with her fingers nervously before turning around to the cupboards.

“Can I get you boys anything?” Minho didn’t miss the tremble in her voice.

He was about to refuse but Jonghyun beat him to it.

“Do you by any chance have hot cocoa?” he asked and Minho could have laughed. “We would like that.”

Mrs. Park threw a surprised look at them, but nodded. Minho raised his eyebrows at Jonghyun who flashed him a grin and a shrug as he sat down in a chair. Minho followed his example, and took the chair beside him.

It was quiet as Mrs. Park prepared the drinks and handed them a cup each. Minho wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to drink a hot beverage when it was warm outside, as it was late spring, but as soon as he smelled the now familiar scent of chocolate his shoulders relaxed somewhat and he sensed Jonghyun calming down as well.

They sipped from their respective cups for another quiet moment while Minho tried to figure out how to start the conversation. It turned out he didn’t have to as Mrs. Park took a deep breath and spoke first.

“I… I have a new life, Minho,” she said quietly, staring at the table top. “Whatever you came here to say, I can’t go back. I was in a bad place back then and I don’t think Taemin would like me to be in his life. It would just give both of us bad memories.”

Minho's jaw clenched and his grip on his cup tightened.

“I’m not here to get you to try being Taemin's mother,” he nearly growled and she winced, not raising her eyes.

Jonghyun gave him a look that clearly said he should calm down and Minho stopped to take a breath.

“He was in an accident,” he said, his heart skipping a beat as if it was news to him as well.

Mrs. Park’s head shot up and she stared at him in surprise. Minho took another breath.

“A drunk driver hit him and he–,” Minho's voice broke and his eyes burned. He cleared his throat, looking down at his trembling hands. “He's in a coma,” he rasped. “The doctors still don’t know if he will wake up or if we will have to… t-to…”

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t. It was not possible. Taemin couldn’t disappear. It simply could not happen.

Jonghyun's hand found his shoulder and squeezed gently. It gave him strength to look up at Mrs. Park again.

Her eyes were glossy and her breathing stuttered. She swallowed harshly as she met his gaze before shaking her head a little.

“I…” she choked. “I haven’t seen him since he was fourteen. I-it’s been eleven years, Minho.”

Minho pressed his lips together and gave a curt nod. Then he stood up. He was done. If that was the response he was going to get for telling her the worst thing that could happen to her son, he didn’t want to stick around to hear the rest.

“I just thought you should know, in case…” he still couldn’t say it to her. “Anyway, thank you for your time, Mrs. Park.”

He left without looking back, seeing himself out. It wasn’t until he was halfway to where he had parked that he realised Jonghyun wasn’t with him. He let out a shaky sigh and sat down on a large boulder astethically placed so no cars would be able to enter the area to wait. He tried to think of anything else but the entire situation he was in. Sadly, it wouldn’t work and Taemin's teary adolescent face burned in his mind’s eye. It didn’t take long before his vision blurred completely and tears were trailing down his cheeks steadily, his breath hitching and his shoulders trembling.

It was painful to know how Taemin's mother had completely abandoned her son, how Taemin really had no one else except Minho and his parents as every other of his relatives were gone. How sad Taemin had been those first years after he had left and how it had broken Minho's heart every time he had crawled into Minho’s bed because he had woken from a nightmare, crying.

Minho took a shuddering breath.

When Taemin woke up, he would love him so much more than he already did. He deserved it. He deserved everything.

Hands suddenly landed on his shoulders and Minho blinked away the tears in his eyes to look up at Jonghyun. He smiled softly, although his eyes were sad. He rubbed gentle circles into his shoulders to calm Minho down and Minho let himself be comforted. He was never really one for crying so no one had really comforted him before. He had always been the one comforting people, Taemin most of all.

“Why didn’t you come with me?” Minho asked when he managed to stop crying.

“It’s rude to not finish what’s offered, you know,” Jonghyun answered. “And leaving without saying thanks and goodbye.”

Minho managed a scowl through his drying tears and Jonghyun chuckled.

“Come on,” he said and held out a hand.

Minho grabbed it and allowed Jonghyun pull him to his feet. They smiled at each other for a moment. Then Jonghyun turned and led the way back to the car.

Minho listened to him chatter about pointless things as he drove them back to the hospital. He was supposed to meet up with Jinki there and Jonghyun reassured him he was fine walking the last bit back home.

As he listened to Jonghyun, he felt lighter. It was nice not having to think and just listen to the string of words falling from his lips and the laugh that sometimes would bubble out of him at some weird story about his co-worker, who also seemed to be a close friend. He could pretend for a while that everything was okay.

There was a constant twinge of pain in his chest, though, which he would have liked to ignore. Jonghyun's cheery personality and constant chatter reminded him so much of Taemin he could almost believe it was him if he didn’t look. And that wasn’t fair to Jonghyun, who had done nothing but help him.

His stomach twisted when the hospital came into view and Jonghyun fell silent, as if he knew Minho's uneasiness – which he probably did. He seemed to sense all of his emotions effortlessly.

He parked at the entrance of the hospital, since he wouldn’t be there for long anyway as visiting hours were about to end, and they got out, meeting at the front of the car.

Jonghyun hesitated as he turned to Minho, the setting sun behind him turning his hair a light pink. He bit his lip and looked up at him almost shyly.

“Are you gonna be okay?” he asked quietly, concern lacing his voice and masking his features.

Minho forced a smile.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’ll go get Jinki-Hyung and go home.”

Jonghyun looked a little doubtful but didn’t press on. Instead he gave a nod.

“Okay then… I guess I’ll be… seeing you around?” he said, suddenly sounding very uncertain.

Minho's smile tunred less forced and he nodded.

“I guess you will.”

Jonghyun smiled and waved before turning away to walk home. Minho stood still, watching him go, a feeling he couldn’t put his finger on stirring in his chest. Their day had been nice, disregarding the visit to Taemin's mother, and he would have liked to talk a little more with Jonghyun. Or, well, let Jonghyun talk while he listened.

Suddenly Jonghyun stopped and turned back around, a small smile on his lips but his eyes serious as he walked back the few steps he had taken, the sun lighting up his hair enough to dazzle Minho. He rummaged through his bag for a moment before pulling out a wrinkly convenience store receipt and a ball pen, flattening the paper out on his hand and then pulling the cap off the pen with his teeth to quickly scribble something on it.

“Here,” he said around the cap as he folded the paper and held it out for Minho to take.

Minho just looked at it dumbly.

“What is it?”

Jonghyun's eyebrows rose and he put the cap back on the pen, returning it to his bag before speaking.

“It’s my number,” he answered, waving it a little. “Take it. If you feel like talking about anything, even if it’s about what you should have for dinner, just give me a call. I can’t promise I’ll always answer, but I’ll try.”

Minho stared at the paper for another moment before hesitantly accepting it. Jonghyun grinned.

“Well, then,” he said, swinging his arms back and forth slightly as he rolled on his feet. “Goodbye. Again.”

He chuckled embarrassedly and turned with another wave.

Minho waved back dazedly, not quite following. Then he looked down at the paper, a small, unconscious smile spreading on his lips, before putting it in his pocket and turning to walk inside the hospital.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonghyun felt light on his feet as he made his way back home. He didn’t know where the courage to give Minho his phone number had come from, but he was glad he had. Minho had seemed genuinely glad he had accompanied him today and Jonghyun felt as if they had at last become real friends and not just acquaintances in a hospital.

His steps slowed and his mood fell.

He had seen how hard it had been for Minho to witness the new life Taemin's mother had made for herself. Jonghyun didn’t know much about the story – nothing, really – but he wanted to help…

As if he hadn’t meddled enough in Minho's business, now he was involving himself in Taemin's as well. He should warn Jinki before he got to know him better.

When Minho abruptly had left from the kitchen, Jonghyun had stayed behind. He hadn’t lied when he told Minho it was rude to not say goodbye properly and all that, but it hadn’t been the entire truth either.

Mrs. Park had looked broken and he had felt bad just leaving her like that, even if Minho seemed to have some resentment. So he had given her his number if she ever wanted to actually know what happened to Taemin. He knew it wasn’t his place, but Minho certainly didn’t seem like he would try and contact her again and Jonghyun could see how torn she had been between remembering a part of her life that had presumably not been good or stay blissfully unaware.

He spent a lot of time at the hospital and knew quite a few nurses; it wasn’t like he would go to great lengths to give her information if she wanted it. And he was Minho's friend, so indirectly he wanted Taemin to be happy – even if it was only because of Minho.

He sighed. His grandmother and Kibum would definitely disapprove of his actions, but Mrs. Park had at least seemed grateful for the chance to make the choice if she wanted to know more or not.

Someday, though, Jonghyun would probably get into a lot of trouble for being so nosey. But he would cross that bridge when he got there, he decided.

 

 

* * *

 

  

Minho frowned as he approached the door and saw three figures standing over Taemin's bed. He was still too far away to tell who they were, but he sincerely hoped Jinki was one of them. Then his heart skipped a beat as he recognised two very familiar people and his speed increased.

“Mom,” he said incredulously as he entered Taemin's room. “Dad.”

They all turned to look at him, Jinki sighing with relief. Minho's mother had teary eyes and his father looked grimmer than he had ever seen him.

“Minho!” his mother said in a watery voice and enveloped him in a warm, tight hug. “Honey, are you okay? Why didn’t you call us?”

Minho swallowed around the lump that lodged itself in his throat and hugged her back.

“I didn’t want to spoil your anniversary,” he mumbled into her hair. “Why are you back so early? You’re supposed to come home in three days.”

His mother pulled back and dried her cheeks while his father stepped forward to pull him into a hard one-armed hug, patting his head.

“Your mother was feeling unwell,” he said gruffly. “I guess it was as well.”

“Sorry,” Minho said softly.

His father squeezed his shoulders and let him go.

“Jinki told us what happened,” his mother said and sat down in the chair beside Taemin's bed, taking his hand and caressing it with her other. “We need to inform Mrs. Lee. She might have abandoned him, but I still think she would like to know.”

Jinki and Minho exchanged a glance and Minho cleared his throat.

“I actually went there today,” he said.

Both his parents turned to him with shocked expressions. His heart stuttered painfully and he gathered the courage to tell them what happened. They had never approved of Taemin's mother’s actions, but had tried to talk to her and make her see reason when Taemin ran away. They had always held on to the hope that she would come around and contact Taemin one day. As much as Minho's parents loved Taemin as their own son, they knew what Taemin had always longed for was his own mother to come to him someday, even when he had made peace with her abandoning him.

“She – uh,” he hedged, “she wasn’t sure it would be good to see Taemin after all this time.”

His mother’s expression saddened even further and a hard glint shone in his father’s eyes.

“Oh,” his mother said softly. “I’m sorry Minho. You had to go there by yourself.”

Minho couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his lips as he thought of Jonghyun and his dandelion and hot cocoa and laughter. He looked up to see three sets of imploring eyes directed at him.

“I actually had a friend with me,” he said to the curious gazes.

Jinki's eyes narrowed in realisation and the corners of his lips tugged, while his mother and father exchanged glances. Then they looked to Jinki.

“Oh, I was at work today,” he said hastily. “But Minho made a friend here at the hospital. I think that was whom he went with?” he said questioningly, looking back at Minho.

Minho nodded.

A nurse interrupted his father as he opened his mouth to speak by sticking her head inside the room and informing them visiting hours were over. They shuffled outside after saying good night to Taemin's still form, his mother sniffling while his father kept a stoic expression, his arm tight around her shoulders. Minho and Jinki followed them as they made their way to the elevators, falling behind a little to talk in private.

“You went with Jonghyun?” Jinki asked softly when they were out of hearing range. “How come?”

Minho shrugged but couldn’t keep the small smile off his lips.

“He offered to accompany me when he heard you wouldn’t,” he answered and Jinki raised his eyebrows. However, he said nothing and they entered the elevator and descended to the garage.

His parents hugged both of them when they reached their car, promising to be back the next day. Minho kissed his mother’s cheek and let his father ruffle his hair. He reassured them he was fine since Jinki was staying with him and told them they should go home and rest. They lived at the edge of the city, which meant it would take them at least an hour and a half to get home, and they had already travelled the entire day. He didn’t want his parents to be exhausted.

The ride home was quiet, as Jinki seemed to be deep in his thoughts. Minho didn’t mind. He was lost in his thoughts as well, smiling every now and then when he remembered something Jonghyun had said or done. He usually didn’t make friends easily, but being with Jonghyun felt good. Natural. He had this uncomplicated, soft air about him, which made it easier for Minho to breathe when he felt like falling apart. He had to wonder if Jonghyun was some sort of guardian angel since he always seemed to appear at the right time and know exactly what to say or do.

“We should ask Jonghyun over for dinner,” Jinki suggested as they stepped through the door to the apartment. “As thanks.”

Minho looked up from untying his shoelaces and regarded him thoughtfully.

“I… guess…” he said slowly.

Jinki smiled.

“You seem taken by him and I’m glad you’re smiling at least,” he said as he passed him on his way to the kitchen. “He makes you smile as effortlessly as Taemin.”

Something broke in Minho's chest and flames licked their way through his veins, sudden dread clenching at his chest. It wasn’t that he hadn’t realised Jonghyun made him smile, but hearing it coming from Jinki's mouth suddenly put an entirely different ring to the words.

He followed him into the kitchen, unreasonably angry. He was feeling inexplicably threatened. The threat didn’t feel as if it was aimed at only him either, but Taemin as well, which did not sit right with him at all.

“What are you implying,” he asked, voice dangerously low, as he watched Jinki make his way over to the sink.

Jinki tensed, his hand pausing on its way to reach for a glass in one of the cupboards, and he turned slowly.

“I…” he hesitated, glancing around uncertainly. “That Jonghyun–”

“Is going to replace Taemin?!” Minho interrupted, his voice rising. Jinki opened his mouth to protest. “He will  _never_  replace Taemin! He’s just…” Minho hesitated, but set his shoulders determinedly. “He’s just some  _stranger_  I met and talked to!”

Something flashed in Jinki's eyes and he stood straighter.

“A stranger?!” he asked just as loudly as Minho. “I thought you guys were friends?! I think Jonghyun deserves some recognition for helping you as much as he has, even when you were just a ‘ _stranger_ ’! I just thought it would be nice to say thanks by inviting him over! Never once did I say anything about replacing Taemin! You don't need to be so defensive!”

He slammed the cupboard door and stomped past Minho to the room he was borrowing, slamming that door as well.

Minho wanted to scream. He was angry with himself for not realising exactly what Jonghyun did to him and how it was interpreted. He hadn’t thought twice about the comfort he felt whenever he was around him, hadn’t wondered about the way his antics made him feel better or how he unconsciously had smiled whenever he thought about him. It had crept upon him silent as a ninja and it took Jinki to point it out to make him realise how dangerous Jonghyun was.

He needed to stop it. Jonghyun was a distraction, he realised now.

A damn good distraction.

Which was why he was so dangerous.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonghyun hummed to himself as he entered the hospital, excited to see Minho. They had progressed in their friendship yesterday and he couldn’t wait to find out more about him. He had to force himself to not get off on the third floor and continue riding the elevator up to the fifth.

His grandmother greeted him with a warm smile and a black beanie she had knitted when he opened the door to her room.

“Come here, child,” she said as he entered.

He grinned back at her, trying not to pay the twinge of worry in his chest any mind. She was lying in bed, looking pale, which meant she probably hadn’t left the room all day. He tried to not let his worry show and smiled wider.

“Hey,” he murmured and sat down in the chair beside her bed.

She waved him closer and he leaned in, letting her put the beanie on his head.

“There,” she said, looking satisfied. “Now your ears won’t be cold.”

“You do know it’s almost summer,” Jonghyun laughed but adjusted the beanie anyway.

“You’d be surprised how cold summer nights can be,” his grandmother answered and patted his cheek. “And you always leave in the middle of the night when you don’t stay over.”

Jonghyun grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

She smiled tiredly and nodded, settling into her cushions again and picking up her knitting tools to start on something new, the yarn baby blue this time.

“What did you do yesterday, honey?” she asked as she knit the first few loops. “It’s unusual for you not to stay the entire day.”

Jonghyun smiled shyly and she looked up at him curiously.

“Do you remember the young man I told you about?” he asked and his grandmother nodded. “Well, I helped him doing something difficult yesterday.”

His grandmother frowned down at the yarn.

“What was that, child?”

“I’ve been talking to him over the past few days. His best friend, although I guess he’s also his adoptive brother, is in a coma,” Jonghyun explained, leaving out the part where Minho also seemed to feel a lot more for Taemin than brotherly love. “He wanted to inform his biological mom about his condition and I offered to go with him as support since his other friend couldn’t.”

His grandmother had put her tools down and was now watching him thoughtfully, a worried frown on her forehead.

“Jonghyun,” she said slowly, “am I correct in assuming you like this man more than you should?”

He bit his lip, his cheeks warming, and averted his gaze. His grandmother always could read him like an open book. Of course she would see right to the core of his actions as soon as he told her.

His silence was answer enough for her.

“Am I also correct in assuming you two barely know each other?”

He nodded. Silence fell for a moment as she continued watching him. Then she sighed softly.

“Just be careful, child.”

He smiled at her. She was asking him to watch himself for a completely different reason than he probably should. His grandmother most likely thought he was getting involved too quickly with a person he had just met – which was true – but she would definitely not like knowing said ‘ _stranger_ ’ most likely wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings since he was clearly in love with someone else.

“Of course,” he said instead, trying to sound reassuring.

She smiled at him and motioned at the TV.

“Let’s watch a documentary about ancient Egypt,” she said, picking up her tools again. “It looked interesting in the commercial yesterday and it’s already started.”

Jonghyun chuckled and picked up the remote from her bedside table to hand it to her. She switched the TV on and they watched the program in silence, his grandmother’s hands steadily knitting whatever it was she was making. They soon stilled and fell to her lap as her breathing deepened. It didn’t take long for her to doze off and Jonghyun spent a minute watching her, worrying his bottom lip.

Then he stood up with a sigh, gently taking the knitting tools and yarn from her slack grip to put them on her bedside table, and pulled her quilt up before deciding he wanted some M&M’s.

And it was not only because he wanted an excuse to find Minho and see how he was doing. No way.

He smiled to himself as he took the stairs since the elevator was occupied. He arrived at the first floor with his anticipation high. Slowly walking past Taemin's room, he glanced inside to find it empty, except for Taemin still in his bed. Disappointment spread in his chest but he kept his head up and continued on his quest to the vending machine.

He had bought three packets of M&M’s, a Snickers bar and a coke, balancing everything in his arms, and was turning towards the elevators when he heard one of them ding in the distance. He stopped and tried to not feel too hopeful, but his heart did a skip when Minho rounded the corner. Then it sank with dread.

He looked wrecked.

Jonghyun could barely see it from this distance, but his eyes had large bags underneath them, his skin was a little pale, and his hair and clothes were ruffled. He held his breath as Minho raised his eyes, meeting Jonghyun's stare for a moment. His hand faltered on the doorknob to Taemin's room and his gaze hardened before he resolutely pushed the door open, quickly disappearing inside, and all but slammed it shut behind him.

Confusion and hurt burned in Jonghyun's chest as he stared at the spot where Minho had stood. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, since they had left on good terms yesterday. He even thought they had become friends.

He shook his head, swallowing harshly and took a few hesitant steps forward, unsure if he should try and talk to Minho or just ignore it and go back to his grandmother’s room.

There was a ding from the elevators again and this time Jinki appeared around the corner, his expression dark and irritated. It softened when his eyes fell upon Jonghyun and he gave a weak smile.

“Jonghyun,” he said in a friendly tone. “Hi.”

“Uh…” Jonghyun tried to smile. “Hi.”

They both stopped in front of the door to Taemin's room and Jinki glanced inside with a scowl.

“Did… you see Minho?” he asked hesitantly and Jonghyun nodded. Jinki let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s stupidity likes to take control of his brain more often than not.”

Jonghyun frowned, not following. Jinki smiled softly.

“Anyway,” he shrugged. “We would like to invite you over for dinner, as thanks for helping.”

Jonghyun's eyes widened and he shook his head.

“You don’t have to,” he quickly protested. “I didn’t really do much–”

“On the contrary,” Jinki interrupted. “You’ve done more than you need. You make Minho smile and I’m really thankful for that. I confess I’m not much help as I work a lot, so I’m really glad he found a friend in you.”

“Oh…” Jonghyun blushed and looked down at his feet shyly, biting his lip. “I don’t know if he considers us friends yet, but I’d like to get to know both of you better. You seem fun.”

Jinki chuckled and Jonghyun looked up to smile back at him.

“You don’t seem so bad yourself,” he said. “So, will you come? To dinner?”

Jonghyun glanced at Minho's tense back through the window and nodded.

“Sure.”

“Great!” Jinki beamed. “Now I just need to smack some sense into Minho.”

Jonghyun was left completely confused when Jinki said a cheerful goodbye and entered Taemin's room. He watched as he, quite literally, smacked the back of Minho's head and how Minho glared at him. Then they both glanced at Jonghyun through the window. Jonghyun froze for a second but smiled softly when Jinki gave a friendly wave. Minho however looked completely blank. Jonghyun still balanced all his candies and his drink in one arm to wave back before turning to leave, confused frown still creasing his forehead.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

_– Hey Jonghyun, it’s Jinki. I stole your number from Minho, so don’t think I’m a stalker or anything! Anyway, I just wanted to tell you you’re still very much welcome to dinner. When would be a good time for you?_

Jonghyun stared down at his phone, biting the nail on his thumb as he rested his elbows on the desk. He had told Jinki he would come over for dinner, but he had had two sleepless nights to think about it and he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea anymore. Not that he didn’t want to go, but Minho had clearly come to some kind of conclusion that Jonghyun was annoying and had been treating him as such.

Jonghyun had visited the third floor yesterday as well, his excuse being the hot cocoa although the real reason was just to see if Minho was all right. They had bumped into each other and while Jonghyun had managed to keep a neutral façade, pain prickled his chest with every clipped or snappy answer he got out of Minho. Jonghyun had then realised he really was in too deep and that he was in for a painful rollercoaster ride, which most likely would end in nothing but broken rails and a high drop.

Which was why it was very reasonable for him to want to decline the invitation.

But Jonghyun had never been known to be reasonable.

And now he had a dilemma. Either he went and still tried to befriend both Jinki and Minho (which he kind of really wanted) with the risk of getting seriously hurt or he took the safe, smart route and stayed as far away as he could.

Jonghyun had never been known to be smart either.

He cursed under his breath and slammed both of his fists down, startling Kibum and a guest he was helping. His friend sent him a scowl, before quickly putting his professional face back on and apologizing for the ‘new’ employee.

A long, suffering sigh left Jonghyun, and he pushed his phone away, burying his head in his arms.

All he wanted to do was help. He didn’t need Minho to reciprocate his feelings; he didn’t expect him to either. He just wanted to make sure he would be okay. It would just have hurt a little less if he were going to get rejected by someone less hostile.

He sensed Kibum's presence and turned his head a little to look up at him. Kibum leaned against the desk by his side with crossed arms.

“You wanna tell me why you decided to go Hulk on the table?” Kibum asked, concern leaking through his annoyance.

“I’m a moron,” Jonghyun muttered.

“Is that supposed to be breaking news or something?”

Jonghyun glared at him.

“Okay, okay.” Kibum waved a hand dismissively. “Pray tell, why have you not discovered this until now?”

Jonghyun's glare intensified and he huffed.

“Like I’m telling you,” he grumbled.

Kibum raised an eyebrow and grabbed Jonghyun's chin in a vice grip when he tried to turn away.

“Spit it out, Jonghyun,” he ordered. “We can’t have you making our guests uncomfortable with this nasty attitude.”

Jonghyun grimaced at him but relented with another sigh.

“I’m in too deep and I’m not sure I want to get out.”

Kibum stared at him for a bewildered moment, his eyes narrowed and his head cocked to the side.

“Does this have to do with Handsome Guy at the hospital?” he asked.

“Minho,” he mumbled. “And, yeah.”

Kibum's eyes narrowed even further.

“You became too nosy, didn’t you?” he accused.

“I don’t know!” Jonghyun protested. “We were fine one day, but then he must have snapped during the night because the next day he was scowling and barely even looking at me. I can’t even get him to talk to me properly!”

His friend frowned.

“Well, that’s douchey,” he muttered.

“And I thought we were friends!” Jonghyun continued. “I just can’t understand what went wrong, and it hurts, but I can’t let it go!”

Kibum watched him, his arms crossed once again and a deep, concerned frown denting his forehead. Then he sighed and rubbed his face with one hand.

“Jonghyun…” he groaned. “I’ve told you a million times before, you are helpful and empathic to a fault, but you need to learn when to stop.”

“But he’s hurting!”

“And is that your problem?” Kibum asked. “Or your fault even?”

Jonghyun scowled down at his shoes.

“No,” he mumbled.

“Then what’s the point of being so noble and righteous?” Kibum said, sounding exasperated. “I mean, what’s in it for you?”

Jonghyun shrugged half-heartedly.

“I just… want him to be okay, you know?” he mumbled.

Kibum stared at him for a moment before sighing again and cupping his face, squishing it gently.

“There’s only so much you can do,” he said. “If he can’t see what a wonderful person you are, then he’s not worth it. I’m warning you, Jonghyun, something about this doesn’t sit right with me.”

“What?” Jonghyun questioned, frowning.

Kibum squished his face one last time and let go.

“I don’t know, and it irks me,” he grumbled. “Something about the way you talk about him or something, don’t ask!”

Two women approached the front desk and Kibum gave him a pointed look.

“As payment for Dr. Kim Kibum's fine psychological services I suggest you go attend to those ladies over there so I can have a break.” He forcefully pulled Jonghyun out of his chair and pushed him over to the guests. “And lunch wouldn’t be unwelcome either!”

Jonghyun threw him a dirty look over his shoulder before he plastered on a smile and greeted the two women, forcing every thought of Minho to the back of his head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A heavy sigh left Minho as he sank lower into the chair by Taemin's bed. A nurse had just been in and jotted down some notes about Taemin's vitals on her clipboard and she had informed him a doctor would come speak to him soon. He had called his parents and they were on their way, neither of the three daring to start hoping the doctor would bring good news. He had called Jinki as well, but he was in a conference out of town and his call had gone straight to voice mail.

He sighed again and stared out the window, watching raindrops race down it, the sky growing darker.

He hadn’t apologized to Jinki yet. It had been three days since their fight and neither of them had really spoken to each other except for last night when Jinki had informed him Jonghyun was apparently coming over for dinner tonight when Jinki got back from his conference. Minho's anger had reared its head again and he had simply walked away and slammed his bedroom door closed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Jonghyun. He  _did_  feel bad about having brushed him off the past couple of days, but he couldn’t bring himself to give Jonghyun a chance when he still didn’t know if Taemin would reject him or not. And it kind of felt a little like cheating since Taemin was in a coma and couldn’t really say anything. Also, Minho knew he felt a whole lot more for Taemin than the budding interest he had in Jonghyun so it was easier to just cut it off before it had the chance to bloom into something else.

He didn’t know what to do about tonight though. It was easy to pretend he didn’t see Jonghyun in the hospital, pretend he couldn’t see his hesitant smile or his lips parting to greet him only to close, face falling once Minho successfully ignored him.

But in his own home? There was nowhere to run. No stairs to duck into, no nurse station to hide behind, and no corner to slip around just in time to hurry down another corridor.

He rubbed his face with a tired groan.

“What should I do, Minnie?” he whispered into his hands, spreading his fingers to peer at the ever still form on the hospital bed. “Why can’t you just wake up? Everything would be so much easier if you did.”

Minho tired to push down the lump in his throat as the door opened and the doctor stepped in, his neutral expression giving nothing away. It sent Minho's heart beating so hard and fast he could barely hear the older man greet him. He wasn’t ready to receive more information yet. He needed to wait for his parents, for Jinki, he would even have Jonghyun there if it meant someone could hold him tethered to the ground. He was too scared to face this alone.

He barely managed to open his mouth before the doctor spoke, clearly not caring about Minho's distressed state.

“Mr. Choi,” the doctor said evenly, although not entirely unkind, “Mr. Lee has been in a coma for nearly a week and statistics state that after a week, the chances for a full recovery lessen.”

Minho could only stare at him, breath caught in his lungs and body growing numb.

“Now, I am not saying you have to decide right this moment,” the doctor continued and hesitated. “However, your family should start thinking of alternative actions if Mr. Lee does not recover. There are some pamphlets about organ donation and…”

Minho stopped listening, his entire body numb by now and his vision blurring. The first few tears silently slid down his cheeks and he could barely make out the doctor telling him he would give him a few moments alone through the white noise in his ears. He didn’t react as the doctor left, but his eyes shifted to Taemin's face and a shaky sob escaped him. An empty void opened in his chest and like a black hole it sucked everything in, feelings, sound, thought, sight. Everything but Taemin's pale face and the beeping of his heart monitor, which indicated he was still alive. The doctor still hadn’t turned it off.

Time stretched out as he sat savouring every beep, imprinting it to memory in case it would be the last time he ever heard it as he watched Taemin's expressionless face.

Minho didn’t know how, but he suddenly realised he was back home in his hallway. He couldn’t remember how he’d left the hospital, if his parents had come, if a decision had been made. Had he driven himself home? How had the door opened? Where was Jinki? What time was it?

He stared down at his shoes, knowing he needed to untie them and pull them off, but the thought was distant and fleeting, sucked into the black hole like everything else, and he ended up just standing where he was, unseeing, unfeeling, and empty, white noise louder than ever before.

Then there was a ringing.

He wasn’t sure if it was something in his mind or if it had come from the outside world and he didn’t really care.

Only loud banging followed the ringing and it grated on Minho's ears. He frowned; thought and feeling seeping back into his limbs and head drop by tiny drop as he turned to answer the door.

A panting, dripping Jonghyun stood on the other side.

Minho just stared at him dumbly, but feeling was flowing back into him like a crook now, which widened into a river, which ended up in a waterfall, and thought crashed back into his brain.

“What…?” he managed to croak.

Jonghyun hesitated before he stepped over the threshold and pulled the door closed behind him.

“I–,” he paused and swallowed. “A nurse told me what happened.”

He took a step closer.

“I just wanted to make sure… to know…” he whispered.

Something snapped in Minho at the concern in Jonghyun's eyes, the affection he could see there.

“Why the fuck is that any of your business?” he growled and Jonghyun winced.

“I… well…”

“I don’t need your sympathy and I sure as hell don’t want it!” he nearly yelled and Jonghyun looked scared for a moment. “Why do you keep getting involved in shit that doesn’t concern you, huh?!”

“I just want to help!” Jonghyun shot back. “You looked like you needed someone to talk to so I talked to you! But you just go and give me the could shoulder, even if I never have asked for anything in return!”

“Then why are you here?!” Minho was yelling now and felt a pang of guilt when he saw tears gather in Jonghyun's eyes. But he continued anyway, too angry to let it go. “If I am so fucking horrible, why do you still hang around?!”

“Because I fell in love with you,” Jonghyun whispered, biting his lip in an obvious attempt to keep the tears in.

Minho paused to stare at him, puzzled.

“What?” he choked out after a silent moment of shock.

“I’m trying, I’m willing and I’m  _here_ , Minho,” Jonghyun said quietly, voice shaking. A tear spilled over and slid down his cheek.

“You… you can’t be in love with me…”

All fight suddenly left Minho and his shoulder slumped. This was so much more complicated than he’d thought.

“Because you’re in love with Taemin, right?” Jonghyun whispered unevenly.

Minho froze.

“You know?”

Jonghyun let out a watery laugh.

“It’s kinda hard to miss. You always end up talking about him and when you do… god,” he sniffled. “When you do, your whole face gets a different glow.”

Minho could only stare at him.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Minho,” Jonghyun continued, managing to calm down and drying his cheeks with the back of his hand. “But that's why I'm not leaving you alone.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonghyun looked on dazedly as Minho brought out ingredients for hot cocoa on his insistence.

He had thought it was going to be a normal visit to the hospital as he left work that afternoon. He was going to see his grandmother, chat with the nurses he knew, maybe see if he couldn’t at least get Minho to speak to him in more than monosyllables.

Once he had entered the hospital, though, something seemed off. Call it premonition or whatever, but something was in the air. Then nurse Park, who was one of the nurses he knew best, came up to him and told him she had new info on Taemin's situation.

Jonghyun's heart had sunk and he had dropped his umbrella as she told him a doctor had spoken to Minho about ending Taemin's life support and donating his organs for research or whatnot, and there had been only one thought in his mind at that moment.

He had been out of the hospital before he knew it, calling over his shoulder to the nurse to tell his grandmother something had come up, not even remembering to grab the umbrella he had dropped. Endlessly glad Jinki had sent him the address to the apartment and that Jonghyun had had the foresight to look it up on a map, he had sprinted off down the sidewalk, weaving in-between people. He had arrived at the door to the apartment in less than twenty minutes, hesitating for a fraction of a second before knocking.

Minho had looked completely lost and unaware as the door swung open, his mind seemed as if it was light years away, eyes unfocused and face blank. But then something had seemed to register and his eyes had focused on Jonghyun, sending a flood of relief through him.

It had been short-lived however as anger had seemed to take over, and okay, Jonghyun could admit to putting his nose where it didn’t belong, but it still hurt to have it thrown at his face so viciously.

Then it had just slipped out.

He was in love with Minho.

He hadn’t expected anything other than rejection, which was what he got, but it didn’t stop the twinge in his chest.

And now they were in the kitchen, Jonghyun preparing hot cocoa, which both of them desperately needed, and Minho watching absently. They didn’t speak as they watched the milk boil. Nor when Jonghyun poured the chocolate powder into it and it swirled together with the milk. Neither when they both sat down at the table, steaming cup in hand.

They were both halfway through their drinks when Minho finally looked up at him, his eyes red and his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“I…” he rasped. “I can’t do it…”

Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over and it took every ounce of Jonghyun's willpower to not get up and hug him. He tightened his grip around his cup instead and remained silent.

“I don’t want to do it… I don’t…”

Minho's words dishevelled into hitching breaths and shuddering sobs, and it pierced right through Jonghyun.

And he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up, rounded the table and pulled Minho into him. It was a little awkward, as Minho was still sitting down, but Jonghyun ignored it in favour of combing his fingers through his hair soothingly, the other hand rubbing gentle circles into his back as Minho's tears stained his pullover, which was already damp from the rain. He let Minho cry against his chest, not saying anything, only holding him close to keep him steady in the present and give him warmth.

When Minho started to nod off, he managed to coax him to bed. He still let tears fall silently and Jonghyun didn’t really want to leave him like this. He hesitated but decided he could face the consequences in the morning, and hugged Minho closer as he laid down together with him, continuing to comb his fingers through his hair until he fell into a deep sleep.

Jonghyun sighed and pulled back to watch Minho, the dried tear tracks on his cheeks and the dishevelled state of his entire being. Then he pulled him to his chest again, cradling his head and shoulders gently.

He really wished he had a dandelion at the moment to send his wishes to an angel, because he was wanting with all of his being for everything to be okay.

 

 

* * *

 

  

The sound of soft breaths reached Minho's ears as he slowly regained consciousness. He cracked his eyes open the tiniest bit and felt all around warm. A calm serenity he hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe even ever, filled the bright morning air, sunlight filtering through his curtains. A small sigh left him and he shifted closer to the source of the warmth around him, his face buried in soft wool. He hugged closer to the body beside him. It smelled nice. Clean laundry mixed with another, entirely unique scent he couldn’t quite name. There were also the faint notes of rain in the fabric.

It took him a moment to remember yesterday’s events, but even when he did he didn’t move away. Jonghyun was too comfortable and safe, and he couldn’t muster up the will power to let go just yet. It was soft and warm and he felt protected in his arms, a feeling he had never really felt before since no one had thought he actually needed to be protected in a long time. He’d always been the strong, responsible, and independent one.

A small stab made itself known in his chest as he thought about the times he had held Taemin like Jonghyun was now holding him and he hated to admit it was a very different feeling. It had never been as soft and peaceful as this was. He had always had a thousand and one thoughts going through his head during those times while hugging Taemin closer to him in an attempt to comfort him.

He also hated to admit he actually quite liked the feeling of being protected by the warmth that was Jonghyun.

His pocket buzzed and he carefully removed the arm he had around Jonghyun's waist to bring his phone out and check it. He glanced up at Jonghyun to see if he was still asleep. He looked lost to the world, deep breaths leaving through parted lips, face relaxed and flushed with warmth, hair a mess, which was a feat since Minho didn’t think any of them had moved throughout the night.

He smiled faintly and looked down at his phone to discover thirty missed calls and fifteen messages, most from his parents but some from Jinki too.

Sighing, he gently extracted himself from Jonghyun's arms and silently made his way to the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind him. He paused, watching the two half drunk cups of hot chocolate thoughtfully before he picked them up to bring them over to the sink.

Keys rattled in the door and Minho put the cups on the counter before he poked his head around the corner to see Jinki step inside, face tired and clothes rumpled.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice rough with sleep.

Jinki jumped a little and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, you’re up,” he said and glanced at his wristwatch. “At half past six. On a Sunday.”

Minho shrugged.

“What happened to you?” he asked as Jinki toed off his shoes. “You didn’t come home yesterday?”

Jinki shook his head.

“It rained too much and they said the tracks had become dangerously slippery, so the train stopped halfway and we were stuck inside it the entire night,” he rubbed his face tiredly. “Have you put on any coffee or tea yet?”

“No, but I can if you want to,” Minho said.

Jinki gave him a grateful smile and followed him to the kitchen, throwing himself onto the closest chair and sinking down so his limbs were sprawled everywhere.

“So, Jonghyun did come over yesterday,” Jinki stated. Minho looked at him questioningly and he motioned at the two cups on the counter. “I messaged him that I would be late, but that he could come anyway since you were here. He never replied, though, so I thought he didn’t come.”

“Oh…” Minho gave the cups a sideways look of contemplation. “He’s here.”

Jinki's eyebrows rose.

“Right now?” he asked. Minho nodded. “How come?”

Minho scratched the back of his neck and stared down at his feet.

“Yesterday… um…” He cleared his throat. “Well, the doctor spoke to me yesterday. A-about Taemin's… recovery… uh…”

The lump of tears was back in his throat and it choked up his voice, forcing him to stop for a moment. He looked up at Jinki and met his terrified eyes, which didn’t make things any easier. He suddenly just wanted to crawl back into Jonghyun's arms and forget about everything.

“Minho?” came a groggy voice from the doorway and both Minho and Jinki jumped.

As if his thoughts had been some sort of summoning spell, there Jonghyun was, clothes rumpled, hair messy and eyes bleary. There must have been something in Minho's expression, because Jonghyun stepped right up to him and gave him a tight hug. Jinki's eyes grew wide and had gone from scared to astonished. Minho didn’t know how to react, so he just stood where he was, staring down at the top of Jonghyun's blond head before looking back up at Jinki.

Jinki blinked a few times. Then he cleared his throat loudly and Jonghyun ripped himself from Minho to swivel around. The blush on his face spread faster than anything Minho had ever seen, and if he hadn’t been so near tears at the moment he would have laughed.

“Hello, Jonghyun,” Jinki greeted calmly, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes shifted between him and Minho a few times. “Did you spend the night?”

“Uuh…” Jonghyun mumbled, glancing over his shoulder at Minho. “I-I-I just… you see, I know this nurse, and she told me, and I think I dropped my umbrella, which is not the point, but I had to see, and I couldn’t leave and then I fell asleep, only now he was sad again so I… just…” his voice died out and he was wearing a sheepish expression.

Both Minho and Jinki stared at him blankly.

“Okay,” Jinki said slowly. “So, from what I could gather of that jumbled mess, is that a nurse told you something about Taemin?” At Jonghyun's nod Jinki continued. “And Minho was sad and you wanted to see if he was all right?”

Jonghyun nodded again and Jinki looked back at Minho.

“What happened yesterday?”

Minho swallowed and sighed. Jonghyun turned back to him, fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out but didn’t dare to. A small part of him wanted Jonghyun to hug him again, just to feel safe and grounded. Simply knowing he was there, though, made it easier.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

“The doctor told me the chances for Taemin's full recovery are diminishing after the one week mark,” he said quietly, voice raspy.

There was a sharp intake of air and Minho opened his eyes again to see Jinki stare at him in dread.

“Have… do your parents know?” he asked breathlessly.

Minho bit his lip, shrugging.

“They were supposed to come to the hospital yesterday, but… I kinda lost myself for a moment so I don’t know…” More like, he lost himself for a few hours, but Jinki didn’t need to know that. He looked down at the phone still in his hand. “I should go call them.”

“Yeah,” Jinki agreed, swallowing harshly. “I’ll make some breakfast.”

“Oh, I can do that,” Jonghyun piped up. “You look like you need a shower.”

Jinki gave him a tired smile.

“You wouldn’t mind?” he asked.

Jonghyun smiled back and shook his head.

“Thank you,” Jinki said and heaved himself out of the chair, trudging out of the kitchen to the bathroom.

Once he was gone Jonghyun turned back to Minho and approached hesitantly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned frown denting his forehead. “I’m sorry I did that, I… it’s just, you looked like you were falling apart again and I couldn’t stand it.”

Minho stared at him with wonder and something settled inside him. Not for the first time did he wonder if Jonghyun was an angel – his personal guardian angel. He was just so  _aware_ of Minho. It was insane. Was he like this with all the people he cared about?

“I–,” he cleared his throat, “I’m fine… thank you…”

Jonghyun let out a breath.

“Good.” He looked down at the phone and smiled wistfully. “Go call your parents. I’ll find my way around the kitchen.”

Minho nodded, but couldn’t move for a moment, still staring at him in wonder. He remembered himself when Jonghyun gave him a weird look. Mumbling something unintelligble, he hurried out of the kitchen and threw himself onto the couch in the living room.

He stayed in the living room once he’d finished talking to his crying mother. They all decided they would continue waiting for Taemin to wake up and not think about other possibilities at the moment. It still felt too early to make any big decisions.

Minho took a shaky breath and settled deeper into the cushions, turning his head to look at Jonghyun, who was moving around the kitchen, humming to himself while he looked through cabinets and pantries, bringing out what he needed.

Was it okay to let Jonghyun in? He wondered. Was it fair, knowing Jonghyun was in love with him, but not doing anything about it because he loved Taemin and just needed the safety and comfort? He knew he would end up hurting Jonghyun (if he wasn’t doing so already) but Jonghyun had claimed he didn’t want anything from him. Could Minho be allowed to have someone like him for comfort? Just for a little while?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Oh god, Jonghyun was so screwed.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

He dropped his forehead to the desk in front of his work computer with a loud ‘ _thud_ ’, thankful there were no guests he needed to help at the moment as his actions plagued him with their more than likely unhappy outcome.

He felt more than saw Kibum open his mouth to speak and held up a finger at him without even raising his head.

“Do  _not_  say a word,” he growled.

Kibum huffed; the wheels of his desk chair squeaking as he rolled away from him to do whatever. Jonghyun didn’t care.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he thought about the past two days.

Of course he hadn’t been able to leave Minho when he had been so heartbroken. Not even Kibum could fault him for that. But he had no excuse for spending the entire next day with him, keeping close and just… well, talking while Minho listened. It somehow always seemed to end up that way. Jonghyun didn’t mind it, though, and it looked like Minho didn’t either.

He was kind of glad Jinki had slept through most of the day, because he was sure he had seen right through him yesterday. Jonghyun hadn’t even been thinking. He had woken up, noticed Minho wasn’t in the bed and gotten worried. His worry had increased once he found him in the kitchen with a haunted and pained look on his face and his mind had just gone blank. His body had reacted on its own and stalked right up to Minho to hug him, passing Jinki without even noticing him.

A quiet groan left him and he pressed his forehead harder into the desk.

Jinki hadn’t mentioned anything before he left for bed, though, and all three of them had eaten dinner like they had planned to do when he woke up again. Minho had looked a little better, Jinki had been friendly and smiling, and Jonghyun had felt welcomed into their little bubble of friendship. He couldn’t help wondering how it would have been if Taemin had been there as well, and as he had looked at Minho he knew he had been thinking the same.

It hurt, of course, but it was all right. This was a decision he would have to live with. Being friends with Minho and Jinki didn’t seem so bad, and he was sure that if he liked them he would like Taemin too. He seemed like a fun person by the stories Minho and Jinki told him. He was sure he could handle it. He would just have to keep looking at the bright side of things, like his grandmother so often told him.

Sadness and dread settled over him as he thought of his grandmother.

She was getting worse. He had stayed with her the entire night since he had felt extremely guilty for ditching her to go to Minho, even though she had assured him it was okay. The nurses told him she hadn’t been out of bed since his last visit and that she slept most of the days. Her vitals were still pretty good, but they were keeping a watchful eye on her now.

An eraser smacked into his temple before it fell to the desk beside his face and he whipped his head up to glare at Kibum. He pointed at a group of people who had just entered and Jonghyun sighed, pulling out the sheet with names of companies that would hold their conferences and meetings in the hotel that day.

He stood up as they approached the desk, greeting a man with grey specks in his hair and smile wrinkles around his eyes. After finding the company name and reservation, he made a call to the break room for someone free enough to show the group to their assigned room and they stepped aside as they waited for their guide.

All except one.

Jonghyun had already turned away to shoot another glare at Kibum, but caught a movement in his peripheral vision. His fake, polite smile faltered as he turned back and saw Minho standing in front of him, looking as surprised as he was. He could feel Kibum's inquisitive eyes boring into the side of his head, but ignored him as he gave a genuine smile.

“Minho,” he said, trying not to feel self-conscious as he straightened his shirt by pulling at the hem of it. It wasn’t working very well, and Kibum's small intake of breath didn’t help either. “Hi.”

Minho's eyes flickered to Kibum before he gave a small smile in return.

“Hi,” he replied. “I didn’t know you work at a hotel desk.”

Jonghyun shrugged.

“It’s not exciting enough to talk about.” He tilted his head. “And I didn’t know you work for,” he glanced down at his papers before looking back up at Minho who raised his eyebrows, “an engineering company.”

“It’s not very exciting either,” he answered, his smile growing a little and turning crooked.

Jonghyun laughed and Minho opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted as the grey speckled man called his name. He gave Jonghyun a nod goodbye and turned to leave, shooting a small nod at Kibum as well before retreating.

Jonghyun watched him go with mixed feelings. At least Minho was talking to him again after the past two days, even though he had confessed, which honestly should have sent him running in the other direction. He wasn’t going to complain, although he wondered what Minho was thinking.

“I thought he was treating you badly,” Kibum suddenly said beside him and he jumped.

“Yeah, well,” Jonghyun muttered. “Things change.”

Kibum gave him an unimpressed look.

“Do tell,” he snarked.

Jonghyun heaved a suffering sigh and sat down, and Kibum leaned against the desk beside him, waiting.

“I found out that the condition of the person he likes worsened and I was worried,” he started slowly. Kibum crossed his arms, tilting his head as he listened. “So, I went to check on him and I couldn’t just leave him when he was so beside himself. I ended up staying with him throughout the night and we kinda became friends again the next day, and uh… I accidentally confessed to him as well.”

Kibum was frowning now, staring at his shoes as he thought.

“I’m not sure what to think about this,” he mumbled and looked up at Jonghyun. “I already told you I don’t like it. He’s in love with this person in the hospital, right?”

Jonghyun nodded.

“And you are in love with him?”

Another nod, although it was hesitant.

“God,” Kibum sighed, rubbing his face. “I don’t know Jonghyun. It just seems like a really bad idea.”

“I know that,” Jonghyun grumbled. “But I told him I didn’t expect anything and–”

“But that’s the thing!” Kibum exclaimed. “He looks interested! The way he looked at you wasn’t entirely platonic!”

Jonghyun gaped at him.

“What?” he asked, barely audible. “Kibum, you can’t be serious! Do you know how much he cares for Taemin?”

“No.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, because there’s interest there on his part, which could end up with you being used and then thrown away, and I’m not looking forward to seeing any of it.”

“You’re wrong!” Jonghyun protested loudly, turning a few heads in the lobby. “He’s not like that!”

Kibum gave him a disbelieving look.

“How would you know?” he asked. “You haven’t known him for very long. He could–”

Jonghyun slammed his hands onto his desk and stood up, angry because Kibum was  _wrong_. He had to be. And no, Jonghyun would not listen to that little voice of doubt that suddenly nagged in the back of his mind.

“Yeah?” he growled. “And how would  _you_  know? You just saw him today! At least I’ve had full conversations with him and his friend!”

Kibum glanced at the guests in the lobby who were now staring at them and held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Jonghyun, calm down,” he mumbled.

Jonghyun was too furious to care at the moment, because damn Kibum! He just had to go and plant a little seed of doubt in his head, didn’t he?!

“Fuck you, Kibum!” he spat and pushed past his shocked friend to go to the break room for some space.

It took him half an hour to calm down, the cup of cocoa for once not helping anything at all. It took him another three seconds to feel guilty and like the worst friend ever. Kibum was just trying to look out for him. And he was sure that if Minho wanted to use him, he would have already done it.

He leaned his head against the window he was sitting by, staring out at the back alley behind the hotel as he twirled the cup in his hands, watching the cooks on break leaning against the wall, talk and smoke, each holding a cup of what he assumed was coffee.

Five minutes after the cooks had left he saw Kibum's reflection enter the break room, pausing before approaching his table and sitting down in the empty chair beside him.

They sat in silence for a while, Jonghyun still staring out the window and Kibum fiddling with his phone, which chimed every now and then.

“I’m sorry,” Jonghyun mumbled after what seemed like an eternity, still looking at the empty alley.

Kibum's reflection looked up at him, waiting for more.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he continued. “I’m a shitty friend.”

Kibum snorted.

“No, your emotions are just too close to the surface,” he answered and put his phone down, taking a deep breath. “Jonghyun, do you ever talk to anyone? About things that happen? Feelings?”

Jonghyun turned to look at him, not understanding what he was talking about.

“Of course,” he said. “I talk to you!”

Kibum rolled his eyes.

“I have to  _make_  you talk to me,” he said. “I mean, voluntarily. You can’t just carry everything by yourself.”

Jonghyun frowned.

“I don’t–,” He faltered at Kibum's sharp glare. “Okay… okay… well…”

Kibum sighed when he couldn’t come up with anything to say.

“You don’t have to talk right this second,” he said. “When there is something, tell me. Or someone else. Just don’t bottle it up, okay?”

“Okay,” Jonghyun mumbled.

Kibum smiled. Then he ruffled his hair with a mischievous glint to his eyes, knowing Jonghyun hated it. Jonghyun gave him a scowl, before smiling and pulling his friend into a hug.

“Thanks, Kibum,” he mumbled into his shoulder.

“Sure,” Kibum murmured back.

They smiled at each other as they pulled apart and as they retreated to the front desk, Jonghyun wondered if he shouldn’t introduce his friend to Minho and Jinki so he wouldn’t have to worry so much.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jonghyun squinted at his pale reflection, wrinkling his nose at his tired eyes and lacklustre skin. The hospital bathroom light wasn’t very flattering, but he knew he would look bad even if he had had the lighting of a photo-shoot, so it really wasn’t much to complain about.

He had fallen asleep in the chair beside his grandmother’s bed last night, not able to leave her side when she looked so fragile in the bluish light of the TV. Well, he had not fallen  _asleep_  asleep, but he had gotten a few minutes of sleep every now and then as he sat watching over her. His grandmother had told him she was fine, but by the way she stayed in bed all day, dozing or watching TV, he knew she wasn’t.

He had called his mother to ask her to come, but it was hard for her to find someone to take care of the shop she owned and she couldn’t afford to close it since the hospital bills needed to be paid. Both she and his dad were already working overtime to afford everything and refused to let Jonghyun help. She had assured him that as soon as she found a person she trusted enough, she would be on a train and come help him take care of everything at the hospital.

The situation was overall very worrying, since the doctors had all said his grandmother would just need a few months at the hospital to recover and then she could go back home. Jonghyun tried not to think the worst and had kept a smile on his face for his grandmother, Kibum, Minho and Jinki and just about everyone else during the past three days. He didn’t want to cause unnecessary discomfort and the doctors kept telling him she would be able to return home in a few months, she was just going through a bit of a cold at the moment.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, a message from Jinki lightning up the display. He unlocked the screen, tapping the icon to open and read it.

_– Hi Jonghyun! Are you doing something this afternoon?_

Jonghyun frowned and replied he hadn’t planned anything except maybe go home and change clothes before returning to the hospital, since it was his day off. Jinki's next message came instantly.

_– Minho won’t say it, but I think he will feel lonely since I’ll work tonight and won’t be home until very late. Is it too much to ask if you want to keep him company? Maybe help him cook dinner or something? He shouldn’t be trusted alone in the kitchen..._

Jonghyun couldn’t help the twitch of his lips at the last comment but the miniscule smile fell as quickly as it had made its appearance.

He knew Jinki was wording his worries in a brighter way than he felt, since Jonghyun most probably had the same worries about Minho as well. It wasn’t just fear of leaving him to feel lonely. It was fear of leaving him to his thoughts, which could lead him to self-destruct. He had seen the way Minho's eyes had been empty and dead when he opened the door the night the condition of Taemin had been re-evaluated and he had been so immensely relieved Minho had managed to come back before his inward destruction went any deeper he had felt like crying – well, he  _did_  actually end up crying.

So, of course, his answer was yes. He would do whatever he could to keep Minho in the world, because he cared about him and he cared about Jinki, who was quickly becoming a friend ever since they had started keeping in touch through messages.

He put the phone back in his pocket before he splashed some cold water on his face, pulled a wet hand through his hair and straightened his clothes.

His plans for the day had changed, but it was okay. He’d spend the morning with his grandmother, go back home after eating lunch with her, freshen up, buy a few groceries and then go to Minho before returning to the hospital. It sounded like a good enough plan, he only hoped he could get in a few moments of sleep somewhere.

He sighed and steeled himself before going back out to his grandmother’s bed to see how she was doing. She opened one eye to peer at him once he was three steps away from the bed, a frown forming on her forehead. Jonghyun raised his eyebrows imploringly.

“I told you to go home, Jonghyun,” she said softly. “I’m fine. It’s nothing but a cold.”

Jonghyun flopped down into the chair beside her bed and laid his cheek on the mattress, closing his eyes as her frail fingers combed through his hair.

“I couldn’t leave,” he mumbled. “I’m worried about you, grandma.”

She let out a deep sigh.

“You look like you haven’t slept all night,” she argued. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

He opened his eyes and met her sad gaze. He knew she hated feeling like she was burdening him, it didn’t matter how many times Jonghyun told her she wasn’t. But he still couldn’t just leave her, and recently he’d been absent a lot more than usual since Minho had entered his life and he was worried about him too.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, since he didn’t have anything better to say. They’d had this argument often.

She didn’t answer him but kept running her fingers through his hair and his eyelids grew heavy, making it harder to open his eyes every time he blinked. It didn’t take long before his breathing evened out and he drifted off to his grandmother humming a nursery tune she used to sing to him as a child.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho opened the door and stared, jaw slack and eyes wide. Jonghyun grinned at him.

"Hi," he said brightly.

Minho blinked, stepping aside uncertainly as he pushed forward, arms full of bags with groceries.

“What…?” he questioned as Jonghyun toed off his shoes and strolled into his kitchen as if he had lived in the apartment for years.

Minho followed him, beyond confused, and watched as he heaved the bags onto the table and began bringing out whatever he had bought.

“What are you doing?” he asked and Jonghyun looked up at him.

“Didn’t Jinki tell you?” he wondered with a frown and Minho shook his head. “Well, he messaged me and asked if I’d like to help him cook for you since he’ll be home late. He doesn’t trust you in the kitchen, apparently.”

Minho raised his eyebrows in disbelief and refrained from telling Jonghyun that, except for that one charred pan years ago, he wasn’t a complete catastrophe. He still usually left the cooking up to Taemin or Jinki since they were better at it and Minho only excelled at boiling noodles.

His heart clenched as the memories of sitting at the table and cutting vegetables while Taemin stood at the stove surfaced and he couldn’t help the faint grimace passing his face. He cleared his throat, ignoring the prickling in his eyes, and took one of four rolls of bread out of a bag, turning it in his hands. Jonghyun watched him, his head tilted and gaze pondering.

“Wanna make dinner together?” he asked.

Minho glanced up at him, meeting his warm eyes, and found himself nodding. Jonghyun smiled.

“Great!” he said enthusiastically. “There’s something I wanted to try making, but if we fail, let’s make Jinki eat all of it!”

The answering smile spreading on Minho's lips as he helped Jonghyun take out the rest of the groceries and line them up on the kitchen table was the easiest one he had given ever since Taemin was admitted to the hospital and a small rush of relief coursed through his veins. He had resigned himself to a night of not knowing what to do with himself, trying to avoid thinking of Taemin while attempting to get work done or read a book and hope the hospital wouldn’t call with bad news.

This would be a much better distraction, since Jonghyun was – Minho was sure of it by now – his guardian angel and always brought peace, allowing him to breathe easily again.

“What are we making?” he asked as he eyed a brown parcel of lobster – if the tag on it was telling the truth – potatoes, eggs, cabbage, carrots, sour cream, pickles, lemons, and crème fraîche. It was an odd combination.

“I am glad you asked, young grasshopper!” Jonghyun said sagely and put his hands on his hips, pushing his chest out proudly. Minho snorted. “I, The Great Master Kim, have decided we shall attempt the ancient secret recipe of my ancestors for dinner this fine evening.”

“Which would be what, Master Kim?” Minho decided to play along, earning a grin in return. It felt kind of good.

“The dish even the gods cannot perfect,” Jonghyun answered dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “The Lobster Roll!”

Minho raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. He’d never heard of it before.

“Okay,” Jonghyun huffed and clapped his hands together, his gaze scanning the groceries. “I think we should start with making the mayo.”

Minho blinked at him, looking down at the groceries as well.

“ _Make_  the mayonnaise?” he asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you just buy it?”

Jonghyun tutted and shook his head, staring him down with grave disappointment.

“I see your journey of learning the culinary arts is far from over, my child,” he said and patted Minho's arm. “And I wanted to try making homemade mayonnaise. Can’t be that hard, right?”

Minho shrugged. He really had no idea. He usually just made noodles when he cooked since the only thing needed was to add boiling water and a packet of seasoning.

“So!” Jonghyun pulled out his phone and opened the recipe he needed, placing it on the counter. “Let us begin, oh young one!”

Shaking his head, Minho started pulling out all the utensils Jonghyun told him they needed and put them on the counter before they got to work. Jonghyun glanced at the recipe once, told Minho to bring every ingredient needed to the counter and poured it in, no measuring cup or anything. Minho decided not to question ‘The Great Master Kim’ and started the electric mixer to batter the egg mix Jonghyun had put together when he was told to while Jonghyun hummed away as he watched, waiting for the right moment to start pouring some oil in. Minho couldn’t keep the small smile off his face as Jonghyun's humming turned into singing over the course of pouring, mixing, and tasting. He had a nice, smooth voice.

“Why do you have a recipe if you don’t look at it?” Minho asked as he watched Jonghyun season the mayonnaise at random, taking jars of spices out and considering them before deciding if they were good enough or putting them back where they belonged.

He had gone from helping Jonghyun put together the mayonnaise to start chopping the pickles at the table.

Jonghyun turned, the concentrated frown on his forehead deepening as he stopped singing.

“Hm?” he asked and glanced at his phone, which had been pushed to the furthermost corner of the counter, tucked snuggly between the cartoon of eggs and the fridge.

“You haven’t looked at the recipe for anything other than which ingredients go together,” Minho pointed out.

Jonghyun gave a shrug, but a crooked smile pulled at his lips.

“I’m a rebel,” he said in a low, conspiratorial voice, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Minho rolled his eyes and went back to chopping.

“Really, though?” Jonghyun continued after a moment of watching him. “Recipes are more like guidelines.”

Snorting, Minho looked up at him.

“Pirates of the Caribbean?” he asked and Jonghyun grinned.

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “But it’s nice doing it your own personal way, don’t you think?”

“Don’t know,” Minho shrugged. “Jinki and Taemin always follow recipes as if they were the word of god. A grain of salt more than what it says and they break down. That’s why they don’t trust me to make dressings or cut things that need to be finely chopped.”

Jonghyun laughed and turned back to the mayonnaise, pulling the cord to the electric mixer out of the socket above the counter.

“Like,” he said as he turned back, glancing down at the pickles Minho was cutting, “say, the pickles for a lobster roll?”

Minho looked down at what he had chopped and frowned at the uneven chunks and small splinters. He hadn’t known they were supposed to be finely chopped. Jonghyun hadn’t said anything other than to cut them into small squares, and while he hadn’t done a great job of that either, it fit the description of small squares better than ‘finely chopped’.

“Oh,” he mumbled and Jonghyun laughed again.

“Worry not, my child,” he said, going into sage mode. “For the secret of my ancestors is just that, to never be predictable.”

“But won’t it mess everything up?” Minho wondered, poking at a few of the larger pieces with the tip of his knife.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Jonghyun waved a hand dismissively and picked up the lobsters. “It’s about taste, not appearance.”

Jonghyun turned to the sink to prepare the lobster and Minho smiled softly, picked out the larger pieces and cut them into smaller bits anyway.

As they continued to work, Jonghyun went back to singing and Minho went back to listening, feeling peaceful for the second time that week all thanks to his presence.

Although, he knew he shouldn’t let the entire thing with Jonghyun continue on and give it a chance to grow, he was feeling so awful the rest of the time he couldn’t bring himself to stop his selfishness. These small moments of peace and ease he had with Jonghyun kept him afloat in a stormy sea and, while he might have considered drowning, they were what made him remember why he shouldn’t let the waves take him over and pull him under. They were what reignited the light that had went out when Taemin disappeared.

 

 

* * *

  

 

Minho turned off the water and put the last dish to dry, bracing himself against the counter as he hung his head.

What now?

It had been a nice dinner and Minho had smiled more than he had this past week, warm and content and stress-free. Jinki hadn’t returned yet, and Jonghyun said he would stay until he did, but Minho really wished he wouldn’t leave even then. They could watch a movie or something. He just wanted to feel at peace for a little while longer.

He took a breath and straightened up. Then he pulled out a packet of cocoa powder and two cups, put them on the counter, and went to the living room, where he had forced Jonghyun to wait while he cleaned up. The TV was on but as he rounded the couch he found Jonghyun curled up in a corner, head on the armrest and chest rising and falling in the telltale deep breaths of sleep.

He paused, watching the way Jonghyun's soft looking hair glowed a little in the dim light, how his fingers twitched lightly and his legs pulled in closer too keep him warm, and shook his head, not realising he had a small smile on his lips until he sighed. The hot chocolate would have to wait then, he thought as he made his way over to his room, found a quilt in the closet and went back to the living room to lay it over Jonghyun. Then he carefully sat down in the other corner of the couch, put the TV on mute and flipped through channels until he found a program he could tolerate, settling deeper into the cushions.

The even breaths of Jonghyun coming from the other end of the couch quickly lulled him closer to sleep and it didn’t take long before his eyelids drooped. Minho hadn’t even realized he was as tired as he suddenly felt, but he guessed he should have known. He hadn’t slept well ever since Taemin's accident. The last time he could remember actually sleeping for at least seven hours straight – as compared to two or three – was…

His closed eyes snapped open again and he looked at Jonghyun's curled up form.

The last time was that night Jonghyun had showed up on his doorstep, damp, hesitant, warm, soft. His guardian angel.

Minho swallowed and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling.

He knew what the little spark in his chest was. He’d felt it years ago for the first time when he looked at a laughing Taemin trying to eat melting ice cream, his hair sun bleached and his skin tanned.

His eyes closed again.

Yet, this spark was something completely different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but instinctively he knew there was a difference in his love for Taemin and this interest in Jonghyun. It irked him he couldn’t figure it out as he fought not to doze off.

Soft fingers in his hair woke him up. He didn’t remembering having fallen asleep. It felt as if he had simply closed his eyes for a second and then suddenly he was in a completely different position, lying on his back with his head in what he could only assume was Jonghyun's lap.

He opened his eyes slowly to peer up at Jonghyun, whose gaze was stuck on the mute TV. He must have felt Minho looking because his eyes dropped down to meet his, surprise registering in them, and his fingers stilled.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said softly, his cheeks turning pink. “Y-you tipped over in my lap while sleeping and I just didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

Minho made a noncommittal sound and closed his eyes again, the same peace, which had filled him the first time he’d woken up with Jonghyun beside him, blooming in his chest.

“I-I’ll move… if you want,” Jonghyun said, voice small and uncertain as he shifted underneath him to stand up.

“I like this,” Minho found himself mumbling and heard Jonghyun suck in a breath, freezing to his spot.

He should probably not have said that, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to correct it at the moment. Because, really, it was true.

“Uh… okay, then…” Jonghyun answered and settled back into the cushions. It took a few long seconds before his fingers found Minho's hair again.

It should feel wrong, Minho thought as he opened his eyes to stare up at him again, watching him concentrate on the TV screen.  _Should_  being the operative word; because it felt like nothing other than the way it was meant to be. As if the Big Bang, stars taking form, galaxies and solar systems coming together and planets aligning all led up to this moment, this short, little timeframe in the small bubble that held Jonghyun and Minho in the present, ready to burst and send them scattering with its mist if anyone dared to poke it.

Minho didn’t.

Jonghyun glanced back down at him and their eyes caught. For a second Minho could see his own thoughts reflected back at him and was enthralled by the warm fondness in his gaze. He was almost certain Jonghyun was seconds away from leaning down and kissing him, and he found he had no desire to move away. This was their little bubble. Everything inside it was okay. Nothing hurt. They were safe.

Then the door opened and Jinki announced his arrival, popping the bubble and breaking the moment.

Minho shot up and scooted back to his end of the couch, leaving a blushing Jonghyun on the other end as dread washed over him.

He had just thought about kissing Jonghyun. He shouldn’t  _want_  to kiss Jonghyun. He wanted to kiss Taemin. He loved Taemin.

“Hey guys!” Jinki greeted cheerfully, interrupting his inner turmoil as he appeared in the doorway to the living room. “Is there any dinner left for me or did you eat it all?”

They both squirmed a little in their seats, not looking at each other.

“Uh, w-we saved some for you,” Jonghyun stammered and Jinki paused, a confused frown creasing his forehead as he glanced between them.

“Right,” he said slowly, looking suspicious. “Well, I’m starving so I’ll just… eat.”

Minho quickly got to his feet. He needed to get away from Jonghyun. He couldn’t let himself be dragged back into their bubble.

No, not  _their_  bubble. There was nothing about Jonghyun and him that was  _their_ , or  _they_ , or  _them_.

“I’ll keep you company,” he said a little too hastily.

Jinki raised his eyebrows at him, but thankfully refrained from making a comment on it as he shrugged and turned towards the kitchen, Minho at his heels. Jonghyun was seconds behind them, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt nervously, not looking at either of them as he cleared his throat.

“I need to go,” he announced, giving them both a quick glance. “I need to get back to the hospital.”

Minho swallowed and nodded, making no move to see him to the door. Jinki shot him an unreadable look before turning to Jonghyun.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” he said. “Thank you for tonight, though.”

Jonghyun nodded and sent him a small smile.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said, still refusing to look at Minho. “I hope you like what we made.”

Then he left, the door falling shut with a soft ‘click’ after some shuffling in the hall.

“Is it just me,” Jinki started as Minho went to bring the food out of the fridge, “or are you two acting like I just caught you in the act or something?”

Minho's face grew hot and his chest tightened. He shot Jinki a scowl over his shoulder, trying to hide the spark of panic in his stomach.

“You didn’t catch us doing anything,” he muttered. “I just woke up from falling asleep.”

Jinki hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the two cups and packet of cocoa powder, but remained silent for the rest of the evening, continuing to send contemplative looks in Minho's direction.

During the week that followed, Minho tried to keep a distance from Jonghyun. It wasn’t working so well, however, and he found himself unable to stop looking at him whenever they were in the same room – which, thanks to Jinki, was a lot, since he decided Jonghyun should eat dinner with them every night. It scared him that Jonghyun had such an impact on him. It wasn’t right. He’d only known Jonghyun for about two weeks and he’d loved Taemin for years.

And yet, he couldn’t stop the warm, softness that spread through his chest whenever he was close to Jonghyun, and he couldn’t stop wondering why he had never felt it so strongly with Taemin either. Because he  _did_  love Taemin. More than anything.

So why was this thing with Jonghyun so different?

Why did Minho suddenly find himself telling Taemin all about him whenever he visited instead of talking about unimportant things like he used to? Why was he thinking about him when he lay in bed at night?

Why did Jonghyun have to be Minho's guardian angel?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Something had happened that night last week at Minho's. Jonghyun was sure of it, because Minho had become more hesitant and withdrawn than usual, watching Jonghyun as soon as they were in the same room as if he could explode at any moment. He still talked to him at least, but there was something in his eyes that was different. Sometimes his expression would be thoughtful and intense, and other times it would be completely unreadable And sometimes he even looked afraid. Maybe it was because Jonghyun had nearly given into the urge to kiss him and scared him away.

Yeah, that sounded like the problem.

But he had been so comfortable and relaxed. It had been as if they were in their own little bubble, safe from the world where nothing could hurt them as long as they had each other. He was almost sure Minho had felt the same way, but the more time passed and the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he might have been wrong.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, stopping outside the entrance to Minho's apartment building.

It had become a thing that Jonghyun ate dinner with Jinki and Minho over the past week. Jinki had learned he always ate alone – if he did at all – and had somehow managed to coax him into eating dinner with them every night. It was kind of nice, being with people his age, and his grandmother had encouraged him to do it once he told her, stating he needed to stop wasting his time in the hospital.

Jinki's invitation had even extended to Kibum, who Jonghyun had yet to introduce to them.

Kibum had been a little suspicious, but agreed to come when he found the time, if only to keep an eye on Jonghyun. This was actually the first night he would be able to join them for dinner, and Jonghyun couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. His friend had made it clear exactly what he thought of Minho – which was a manipulative, selfish jerk – and Jonghyun could only hope he would at least be somewhat friendly. Knowing Kibum, though, it was more likely he would speak his mind rather than keep his mouth shut.

He sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the night wouldn’t end up crashing and burning and made his way up the stairs, glad that at least he would have some time without worrying before Kibum came, since he hadn’t finished his shift yet.

Just as he was about to press the doorbell the door opened and both he and Jinki jumped, choking on a gasp.

“Oh, Jonghyun!” Jinki laughed once he’d caught his breath. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Jonghyun grinned at him.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. “I scared you too.”

Jinki stepped aside to let him in before exiting.

“I have to go buy some lettuce since Minho forgot to put it on the shopping list.” He rolled his eyes. “There’s a pot of stew boiling on the stove and Minho's supposed to watch it, but he’s caught up in some papers from work.”

“I’ll watch it,” Jonghyun reassured.

“Thank you,” Jinki sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

They gave each other a wave and the door closed. Jonghyun took a deep breath, toeing off his shoes and pulling off his knitted beanie. He needed to steel himself for a moment to gather enough courage to face Minho before he rounded the corner to the kitchen.

Minho sat at the table, one hand buried in his hair and the other tapping a bullpen against a paper. There were documents scattered across the table and markers in different colours strewn here and there.

Jonghyun smiled a little.

“Hey,” he murmured and Minho's head shot up.

He looked at him for a moment, the expression that had been present for the past week and that Jonghyun couldn’t quite name on his face. Jonghyun wasn’t sure what to make of it, and he didn’t dare ask. He was still quite sure it had to do with the almost kiss, though.

“Hi,” Minho answered, voice rough.

Jonghyun swallowed and resisted the urge to pull his fingers through Minho's hair to smooth out the places where it stuck up, widening his smile.

“You’re supposed to watch the stew, you know,” he teased.

Minho frowned and looked over his shoulder at the pot.

“Right,” he muttered, turning back with a worried look. “It’s not burnt, is it?”

Jonghyun laughed and shrugged, making his way over to lift the lid and check.

“It’s fine,” he informed him, picking up the spoon laying by the stove and stirring.

He glanced back over at Minho and chuckled at his relieved expression.

“Jinki would have killed me if I’d let it burn since your friend’s coming over,” Minho sighed. “He wants to make a good first impression.”

Jonghyun bit his lip and grimaced at the pot. Jinki might make a good first impression on Kibum, but he was still unsure what would happen with his friend and Minho.

Silence fell as Minho returned to doing whatever he was doing and Jonghyun deemed it safe to leave the stew for a while to bring out plates, bowls, and glasses, and place them on the kitchen island. Minho looked up at the clatter and Jonghyun had to suppress a laugh.

“What?” Minho asked.

“You have a mark on your forehead,” Jonghyun couldn’t help but chuckle.

Minho's frown deepened and he grumbled, trying to rub at the ink on his forehead. Jonghyun failed to keep his laughter down as he completely missed the mark, and tried to direct him on where it was.

The ink didn’t want to come off, however, it only smeared into a bigger blot. Jonghyun resorted to grabbing a kitchen towel and wetting it before approaching Minho. Minho's eyes widened when Jonghyun reached out to cup his jaw and lift his face up towards the light, taking another step closer.

“Here,” he said softly, all laughter leaving him as butterflies filled his stomach, sending tingles through his nerves.

Minho stiffened for a few seconds while Jonghyun tried to rub away the ink, continuing to stare up at him with wide eyes. Jonghyun couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze and the butterflies intensified as he leaned in closer to inspect if the ink was coming off. He knew he was crossing a line – like that night when he’d let Minho continue sleeping on his lap – what with him standing between Minho's open knees, so close he could feel their body heat mingling.

His face grew hotter the more time passed – the ink was very persistent – but he pretended that nothing was out of order. Minho's gaze never left his face and Jonghyun was too scared he would do something he couldn’t undo if he met his eyes.

When the mark was gone, he reluctantly pulled back to check the rest of Minho’s stupidly handsome face for more ink marks.

He forgot all about it when his eyes accidentally locked with Minho's piercing gaze and he stilled, staring back in silence.

Time slowed as he saw the same emotion in Minho's eyes he had that night he’d almost kissed him. It was as if they both were thinking the exact same thing again. As if they were in their bubble and nothing mattered or existed, except them.

And nothing stopped him this time as he leaned in slowly and tentatively to press his lips against Minho's in a soft kiss.

To his relief Minho didn’t pull back or even flinch, which Jonghyun had half expected. He just simply continued to sit in his chair, kissing back hesitantly. Jonghyun's heart beat faster in his chest and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, not one to deny a chance given to him.

A muffled, surprised noise escaped him as Minho's warm hands came up to rest on his hips, pulling him in closer so that they now were pressed against each other. Jonghyun gasped against his lips, his arms resting on Minho's shoulders lightly as his hands moved up into his hair. Minho made a small noise – out of content or something else, Jonghyun didn’t know – and pressed his fingers into the small of his back, hugging him even closer as his lips parted a little. Jonghyun gave him a soft peck, his arms moving down to wrap around Minho's neck, and he shivered as fingertips grazed his skin just beneath the hem of his shirt.

Jonghyun thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest, his hands starting to tremble and his legs turning to jelly. He couldn’t believe what was happening. He had wanted to do this for so long and it was better than anything he could have imagined. A small voice in the back of his head warned him that this was a mistake, Minho loved Taemin, but Jonghyun was too gone to give it any consideration.

The sound of keys rattling in the lock forced them to spring apart. Jonghyun stumbled as he moved out of Minho's embrace, cold at the loss of his touch. They stared at each other blankly as the door opened and Jinki's cheerful voice announced his return.

Jonghyun quickly gathered himself, drying his moist lips with the back of his hand, and took a deep breath, trying to make the blush creeping up his face go away. Minho swallowed harshly and smoothed down his hair – which Jonghyun's fingers had messed up even more – just as Jinki entered the kitchen. He stopped in his steps, looking between the two of them curiously.

“Is the stew okay?” he asked after a moment of heavy silence and Jonghyun let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, throwing a nervous glance at Minho who refused to meet his eyes. “I think so.”

Jonghyun swallowed as Jinki glanced between them again, thoughtful. But apparently he decided not to comment since he shrugged and went to rinse the lettuce he’d bought.

Jonghyun looked at Minho again, who was now staring intently at his papers, and a painful pang hit his chest. He took a small, shuddering breath and returned to the stove to check the stew again, the silence in the kitchen heavy as no one really knew what to say.

Minho excused himself after a few, long minutes, gathering his papers and pens, and bolted from the kitchen. Jinki gave Jonghyun another thoughtful look, looking like he wanted to ask but unsure how to even begin.

“So, how’s your grandmother?” he said after opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“Uhm,” Jonghyun cleared his throat, staring down at the pot. “I’m not sure. She’s had a cold for almost two weeks and the doctors keep telling me she’ll be fine, but…”

“You never know,” Jinki filled in and Jonghyun nodded.

Silence fell again and Jonghyun thought he’d get away with what had happened until Jinki stopped rinsing the lettuce and sighed deeply.

“Jonghyun,” he started gravely. “Minho, he… might not be thinking straight right now.”

Jonghyun bit his lip and dread fell like a heavy stone in his stomach.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know he loves Taemin. But I can’t stop myself.” He laughed humourlessly. “I’m such an idiot.”

Jinki smiled sadly, starting to say something else but was interrupted by the doorbell.

“That’s probably Kibum,” Jonghyun said, trying not to sound relieved at the interruption. “Should I go get it?”

Jinki nodded and Jonghyun wasted no time getting out of the kitchen.

He was sure it was going to be a long night.

 

 


	2. Part 2

 

“You did what?!”

Jonghyun flinched as Kibum's nails dug into his arms, accompanying his hissed exclamation, and glanced behind him to make sure Minho and Jinki were still in the kitchen, out of earshot.

They had relocated to the living room on Jinki's insistence while waiting for them to clean up and make drinks. They were going to put on the movie they all had agreed on to watch to have more time to get to know each other. Jonghyun had grown tired of Kibum's constant muttering about Minho's odd behaviour so, in a moment of irritation which caused his lapse in judgment, he snapped at Kibum that Minho might be a little confused because they had kissed earlier.

“Will you be quiet?” Jonghyun growled and reached over to the bowl of cheese balls – courtesy of Kibum – on the coffee table to grab a handful, avoiding eye contact.

Kibum pressed his lips together and glanced behind them as well, eyebrows bunching up.

All in all, the evening had gone quite well. Kibum and Jinki hit it off pretty quick after they realised they had apparently gone to the same high school. Minho and Jonghyun had mostly listened to them eagerly talk about memories of teachers and school events they both shared, laughing at jokes about incidents only they understood. Kibum had been a little stiff and cold towards Minho at first, but when Jonghyun kicked him hard under the table he had decided to at least behave like a civilised person and hold a short conversation with Minho out of politeness – although he had pinched Jonghyun's arm in revenge when no one was looking.

Minho had still seemed to find it hard meeting Jonghyun's eyes, though he had stared at him when he thought Jonghyun wasn’t looking. He didn’t know what it meant and was afraid Minho might be angry with him because he had crossed a line. It made him nervous and caused him to stutter and fumble the rest of the night. Of course Kibum had noticed, as well as Jinki, and Jonghyun had been feeling all kinds of awkward and embarrassed the entire evening.

“Jonghyun, are you stupid?” Kibum muttered and snatched the last few cheese balls from his hand. “Why would you kiss him?”

Jonghyun bit his lip and stared down at his orange hand before grabbing a napkin from the pile beside the bowl and cleaning it up.

“I dunno.” He shrugged. He wasn’t sure how he could explain his and Minho's little bubble to Kibum without sounding insane. “I just… did…”

“So that’s why you’ve been acting extra weird and he’s been ogling you all night?” Kibum huffed. “I was wondering what his deal was.”

Jonghyun grimaced.

“Please don’t say anything. You don’t have a brain to mouth filter,” he pleaded and Kibum gave him an offended look. Jonghyun just stared at him blankly.

“ _Fine_ ,” Kibum sighed. “But if he makes a move on you, we’re getting out of here.”

Jonghyun was about to protest, because he actually really  _wanted_  Minho to make a move on him, but Jinki entered the living room just then, two cups of tea in his hands for himself and Kibum.

“Jonghyun, I think Minho will burn your hot chocolate,” he said as he put the cups on the coffee table. “Maybe you should help him?”

If looks could kill, Jinki would be nothing but a puddle of goo on the floor at the moment, what with Kibum's fiery glare zeroing in on him. He didn’t appear to notice or just simply ignored it and took a seat in the recliner by the couch.

“Sure.”

Jonghyun was about to get up when Kibum grabbed his arm and forced him to stay.

“I’ll go,” he said too sweetly with a dangerously calm face. His back was turned on Jinki, so Jonghyun was the only one who noticed the intent in his eyes. “You and Jinki did all the work with dinner.”

Jonghyun simply nodded, too afraid to protest. He and Jinki watched Kibum disappear to the kitchen in silence. Then Jonghyun let out a long sigh while Jinki just chuckled under his breath. He looked over at him.

“What?” Jonghyun asked.

Jinki pulled his legs up and blew softly into his mug, giving the contents a considering look.

“Nothing,” he said, balancing the mug on one of his knees. “Kibum's interesting.”

A chuckle left Jonghyun as well and he shook his head. Jinki smiled at him.

“I’m sorry,” Jonghyun mumbled. “He’s a bit obnoxious sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” Jinki laughed. “I think Minho needs to talk to someone who’ll take no bullshit. God knows Taemin and I let him get away with more than he should.”

Jonghyun hummed in agreement, then frowned. Right, Taemin. Taemin was someone very important to Minho, someone he loved a lot. Jonghyun had no idea if Taemin reciprocated Minho's feelings. If that were the case, he was really screwing it up for Minho by not holding back and bumbling into something that could end in a disaster.

But it was so easy to forget when Minho was within touching distance. So easy to let go of logic and reason.

“Hey…” he started but stopped, unsure, and Jinki looked at him curiously. “Maybe I should not come here as often?”

Jinki raised his eyebrows.

“Why?”

“Well… Taemin, for one,” Jonghyun mumbled. “I shouldn’t come and mess everything up when I don’t even know the extent of Minho and Taemin's relationship.”

Jinki hummed thoughfully, taking a sip of his tea.

“You know,” he said slowly, turning the mug in his hands. “I encouraged Minho to confess to Taemin when he first told me of his feelings.” Jinki glanced up at Jonghyun. “I was pretty sure Taemin felt the same way. But now…”

Jinki's voice died out and he considered Jonghyun intently.

“But now?” Jonghyun asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I told you Minho wasn’t thinking straight, but the way he’s been acting tonight… I think it’s different with you. With Minho and Taemin it was like Minho was the knight and Taemin was the prince he protected. With you two though… it’s like you’re both knights. You might be protecting Minho right now more than he protects you, but if Minho just let himself, he’d be protecting you as well.”

Jonghyun frowned, not understanding completely, and Jinki laughed quietly to himself.

“Maybe I’m just a romantic,” he smiled.

A smile tugged at Jonghyun's lips as well.

“Maybe,” he teased and Jinki laughed again.

Minho and Kibum entered the living room then, neither of them speaking but both of them wearing matching expressions of exasperation. Kibum sat himself down right in the middle of the couch, pushing Jonghyun to one edge and forcing Minho to the other. Jonghyun shot him a burning look, but was ignored as Kibum shoved a cup in his face. He was a little relieved Kibum was in the middle though, because he still had no idea what Minho thought about the kiss and neither did he dare to find out at the moment.

“So,” Jinki said, looking way to amused by the entire situation, “what movie were we going to watch?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho was sitting on his bed, staring at his hands in contemplation.

Jonghyun and his – quite brazen – friend Kibum had left. Jinki had already gone to bed, since it was around two in the morning, but Minho was stuck staring at his hands, repeating two questions, which had been running through his mind the entire night after kissing Jonghyun, over and over.

Why had it felt so right? Why had it felt like Jonghyun belonged right there, in his arms, so close he could barely breathe?

He was pretty sure he knew the answer. He didn’t  _want_ to know the answer. The answer was preposterous, insane, unthinkable, and… and… filling his insides with a soft, fuzzy warmth. The same warmth he had felt when Jonghyun had stayed with him the entire night or when he had woken up to his fingers in his hair.

Something wet splattered onto his palm and it took him a moment to realise it was a tear. He hadn’t even noticed his vision going blurry.

“I’m falling in love with Jonghyun,” he whispered to his hands, hesitant, almost not daring to utter the words. “Fuck.”

He loved Taemin, but he was falling in love with Jonghyun.

Fate really wasn’t kind to him.

Another tear splattered onto his palm, and then they started pattering down like raindrops. He clenched his hands into fists and dragged them underneath his eyes, brushing away the wetness.

What was he supposed to do now? The entire thing was getting out of hand and he couldn’t stop it. And a small, selfish part of him didn’t want to stop it either. If he were to be honest, being with Jonghyun felt good, natural even.

The realisation pulled a choked sob from Minho.

The thing that made all of it worse was that Minho wanted Jonghyun to be next to him, to feel his arms around him, even now. He needed his guardian angel, and his hot chocolate, his soft fingers and his warm body, his soothing voice and his calming presence. It made him feel like the worst person ever and so guilty he wanted to rip his hair out and scream and kick.

He barely slept that night, twisting and turning, his dreams filled with Jonghyun going from innocent to absolutely not very innocent, the feel of his lips still fresh in his mind fuelling them. He woke with a gasp, ashamed and guilt-ridden. He’d never had a wet dream of Taemin, but one kiss from Jonghyun had sent his subconscious mind into the gutter and broken all his efforts to not fall in love.

Jinki frowned at him when he entered the kitchen the next morning, but didn’t comment on his dishevelled appearance and just put a cup of coffee in front of him.

For a brief moment Minho wondered why it wasn’t hot chocolate. He was feeling like shit and that was usually what he would be given in those situations. Then his thoughts caught up to him and he felt like crying again.

Jinki watched him in quiet worry as they ate breakfast, but thankfully decided not to pry and talked about unimportant things instead in an attempt to distract him. It worked for a while. Then Jinki had to leave since he had an extra shift at work and Minho was left to his thoughts again.

And his own mind turned against him. It was as if as soon as his brain had gotten with the program, it projected everything it could find in its memory files of Jonghyun, smiling, crying, laughing, singing, hesitant, soft, radiant. Minho tried desperately to tell himself the stuttering in his heart wasn’t because he was in love, and that the tingling in his chest wasn’t caused by the memory of Jonghyun's soft lips against his own.

It became too much to handle after a while, he was waging war against himself. He needed air, and he needed it now. He nearly broke the door in his haste to get out of the apartment. The sun and wind made him feel less panicked and he began walking aimlessly down the street, concentrating on watching the people he passed.

His body had other plans, however, and his feet subconsciously carried him all the way to the hospital. He didn’t realise it until he was standing right outside Taemin's door. He stared at it blankly, looking through the window at the still form on the bed, and swallowed harshly before pushing the door open.

“Hey Taeminnie,” he murmured shakily once he had sat down in his usual chair.

Silence fell and Minho fixed his gaze on the steady beating of Taemin's heart on the monitor, counting the beeps. His own heart fell in synch with Taemin's and his shoulders relaxed a little. He sighed, dragging one hand down his face.

“You know I love you, right?” Minho said softly, his voice cracking. He swallowed again. “I never had the chance to tell you how much you actually mean to me. But I do. Love you, that is. Very much.”

He reached out and grabbed Taemin's hand, interlacing their fingers.

“Then there’s Jonghyun,” he whispered, staring at their hands. “And I have no idea what to make of him. He’s just so… he’s…” Minho sighed shakily. “This will sound insane, but he’s my guardian angel.”

For a second, he could almost hear Taemin laugh and call him ridiculous and his eyes watered.

“And I’m–,” his voice broke and he cleared his throat, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “I met Jonghyun's friend yesterday.” He changed topic, smiling faintly. “He was a bit harsh, but he was looking out for Jonghyun, I guess. Told me he would personally skin me alive if I was leading him on only to use him…”

Minho's small smile fell and he closed his eyes.

“But I told him I’m not,” he said, barely audible. “I’m not.”

He opened his eyes again when a tear escaped and ran down his cheek.

“I’m falling in love with him, Taemin, and I don’t know how to stop,” he choked out. “And it’s bullshit because I love  _you_. I don’t want to fall in love with someone else when I never even got to tell you I love you.”

He bit his lip to stifle a sob. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else so he sat silently, wondering how he had ever landed in this mess.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jonghyun sighed into his phone.

“You can’t be serious,” he grumbled. “I just arrived at the hospital. Do you really need it right now?”

“ _Yes_ , I need it!” Kibum exclaimed desperately. “My girlfriend gave me that cardigan and she’ll expect me to wear it on our date!”

“Why were you wearing it yesterday, then?” Jonghyun said and waved at a nurse he recognised as he exited the elevator on the fifth floor. “If it’s so important that you’re having a panic attack?”

“Because it’s actually a nice cardigan and I was meeting Jinki and Minho for the first time,” Kibum groaned as if Jonghyun's ignorance physically pained him. “Can you blame me for wanting to look presentable?”

“And why do I have to go get it now again?” Jonghyun muttered, stopping outside his grandmother’s room.

“Because my shift doesn’t end until six and if I make a detour I’ll be late for the date!”

Jonghyun sighed heavily again and pushed the door open. His grandmother looked up at him, her eyebrows rising questioningly. Jonghyun grimaced at her.

“Okay, fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll go in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Jonghyun,” Kibum said, voice heavy with relief. “I have to go. I snuck away to call you and the front desk is empty.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jonghyun said and hung up.

“Is there a problem?” his grandmother asked as he sat down in the chair beside her bed.

“Kibum left his cardigan at Minho's apartment yesterday and he’s freaking out because his girlfriend gave it to him and he absolutely has to wear it to their date tonight,” Jonghyun informed her.

She chuckled and shook her head. Jonghyun smiled softly, although it disappeared quickly when she started coughing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching out and grabbing the glass of water on her bedside table to hand it to her.

She took it gratefully and raised it to her lips.

“It’s just the cold,” she sighed after taking a few sips and waving him off. “You worry too much, Jonghyun.”

He bit his lip to keep from arguing with her that it wasn’t ‘just the cold’ anymore. He was quite sure it shouldn’t have lasted this long, without any improvement whatsoever, in a hospital of all places. It worried him and it should worry her too, but she kept insisting she was fine even though he knew she hadn’t gotten out of bed much lately.

“You should go find Kibum's cardigan,” his grandmother said after another sip of water. “Instead of wasting your time with little old me. You’re going to become sick too with all the time you spend in the hospital.”

“But–”

“No buts, Jonghyun,” she interrupted. “I’m happy you have found friends to be with in the evenings instead of always being here. It’s not good for you to be surrounded by hospital atmosphere. I’ve heard people become depressed if they spend too much time in a place for the sick.”

Jonghyun rolled his eyes.

“Who told you that?” he muttered. “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard.”

His grandmother looked at him sharply and he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Okay,” he conceded. “Sorry. I’ll go.”

His grandmother reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I love you very much, child,” she said. “Don’t forget that.”

Jonghyun smiled at her and leaned over to give her a hug.

“I love you too,” he murmured. “Promise you’re all right?”

She nodded and patted his cheek gently as he pulled away, her eyes glassy.

“Okay,” he breathed. “I’ll be back later, when I’ve given Kibum his cardigan.”

His grandmother smiled and thankfully didn’t object his plan on returning. He left, still feeling worried but deciding there was no point in arguing with her too much. He would just keep an eye on her and demand the doctors did something to help.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho frowned at the foreign, navy-blue cardigan thrown over the back of the couch. He hadn’t noticed it earlier when he had headed out but now it stood out against the white fabric of the couch. Picking it up, he inspected it closer. He vaguely remembered Jonghyun's friend wearing it last night but taking it off since he’d been too warm sitting between him and Jonghyun.

He sighed and brought it to the kitchen to hang over a chair so he wouldn’t forget to give it to Jonghyun when he came over for dinner later.

Thinking of Jonghyun and dinner brought back memories of kissing him yesterday, and tingles sparked through his blood. He blushed a little and shook himself, trying not to think about it.

He made his way back to the living room and turned the TV on, settling on some reality show. However, his mind began wandering without permission, and soon he was lost in memories of the morning he had woken up in Jonghyun's arms and how warm and peaceful he had felt lying beside him, of the night he had fallen asleep next to him on the couch and how nothing had been complicated and painful, and of their kiss and how soft Jonghyun's lips and fingers had been, how right it had felt to pull him closer and give in.

Minho groaned when he caught himself, forbidden warmth pooling in his stomach. Not that he didn’t still feel guilty as hell for falling for Jonghyun, but it was easier to accept it now when he’d come clean to Taemin and had time to calm down. He still wasn’t sure he should allow himself to fantasise about Jonghyun in less than platonic situations. He was glad he was alone in the apartment so there was no one there to judge him.

Until the doorbell rang.

He sighed heavily and stood up, wondering if Jinki had gotten out of work earlier. It was Saturday after all so he wouldn’t be surprised if he had. He didn’t understand how Jinki could agree to work on a weekend.

His heart skipped a beat as the door swung open to reveal Jonghyun and butterflies came alive in his stomach. He was surprised when the guilt was drowned out by the warmth in his chest as Jonghyun smiled at him sheepishly.

“Hi,” Jonghyun greeted, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Uhm… well, Kibum forgot his cardigan here?”

Minho frowned at Jonghyun's uncertain tone but stepped aside to let him in, wondering if it was a smart idea with the dreams he’d had and all the thoughts he’d been thinking all day.

“Yeah,” he answered. “It’s here.”

Jonghyun made no move to step over the threshold and Minho's frown deepened. He suddenly wanted to reach out and grab his hand, lace their fingers together and pull him inside, but resisted the impulse and cleared his throat.

“Did you want to come in?” he asked.

Jonghyun rolled a little on the balls of his feet, looking uncertain.

“Would that be okay?”

Minho wasn’t entirely sure why he asked but nodded anyway. Jonghyun smiled shyly and the butterflies in Minho's stomach fluttered harder. He took a few steps back as Jonghyun entered so he wouldn’t just slam him up against the door and kiss him silly.

Maybe inviting Jonghyun in hadn’t been the best decision with his mind-set at the moment.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Awkward didn’t even begin to describe what Jonghyun was feeling at the moment. He’d dreaded going to pick up Kibum's cardigan since he and Minho had barely spoken after the kiss. He’d even thought about cancelling tonight’s dinner in fear of what conclusions Minho had come to once he’d had the time to think.

Minho didn’t slam the door in his face though, which Jonghyun counted as a small victory. He simply stared at him for a moment, swallowing harshly. Jonghyun gave a sheepish laugh, unsure how he should proceed.

“Hi,” he decided to begin with. “Uhm… well, Kibum forgot his cardigan here?”

Wow, he sounded so uncertain of himself. Jonghyun wished the floor would open and swallow him so he didn’t have to feel so awkward and out of place. How did he usually talk to Minho?

Minho frowned but stepped to the side, a clear invitation.

“Yeah, it’s here,” he said.

Jonghyun hesitated. He didn’t think it would be wise of him to come inside when he clearly couldn’t behave himself once he was close to Minho. He didn’t want to make things harder for any of them and he didn’t want Minho to feel bad for cheating on Taemin. If whatever they did could be called cheating. Jonghyun didn’t know.

“Did you want to come in?” Minho asked after clearing his throat, his frown deepening.

This really wasn’t a good idea. But Minho didn’t seem to be angry or resentful. In fact, as Jonghyun looked closer he almost seemed… nervous?

“Would that be okay?” he wondered and Minho nodded.

Jonghyun couldn’t help the shy, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. Maybe he hadn’t made a mess of things after all.

It was silent for a while. Minho backed up several steps as Jonghyun entered, which was a bit weird, but he ignored it and bent down to untie his shoelaces.

“I saw a dandelion on the way in here,” Jonghyun said conversationally as he took off his shoes, attempting to break the awkwardness that still hung in the air between them. He tried not to pay the nervous tremble in his voice any mind.

He looked up in time to catch Minho's soft smile of understanding and felt all kinds of warm inside.

“What did you wish for?” Minho asked.

Jonghyun grinned; relieved the awkwardness between them was slowly beginning to melt. Not that it made him feel less nervous and insecure. He should probably talk to Minho about what their kiss had meant to dissipate the uncertainty that hung in the air between them.

“That’s a secret,” he said.

He’d noticed the little fluffy ball beside the entrance to Minho's apartment building as he’d stood outside, steeling himself. Picking it up, he had planned on wishing for everything to work out between him and Minho. But just as he was about to blow on it, he paused, eyeing it thoughtfully. He had smiled wistfully to himself as he changed his wish and closed his eyes, blowing softly. As he watched the seeds take flight he really wished his grandmother had been right about the angels listening to prayers, since he wanted with all of his heart for Taemin to wake up again.

Still smiling, Minho shook his head and turned to lead the way to the kitchen.

“Where’s Jinki?” Jonghyun wondered as he followed him.

“Work,” Minho murmured.

Jonghyun nodded, fiddling with his fingers as they passed the living room. He figured now was as good a time as any to ask a bout the kiss and took a deep breath, forming the words in his mind.

“Were you watching a movie?” he said, chickening out and asking the first thing that came to mind as he caught a building exploding on the TV.

“Not really.” Minho shrugged, stopping in the doorway to the kitchen and gesturing towards a navy-blue cardigan slung over a chair.

“Oh,” Jonghyun said in relief. “Thank you. Kibum was about to have a melt down.”

He picked it up, but his nervousness increased since he would now have to man up and ask about the kiss. He twisted the cardigan in his hands, then realised what he was doing and let go as if he'd been burned, dropping it to the floor. Kibum was going to kill him. As he bent down to pick it up again, he saw in his peripheral vision how Minho moved closer to do the same, and it resulted in them almost colliding.

Suddenly they were close. So, so close and Jonghyun didn’t think either of them could have stopped if they had wanted to as they came together, lips colliding, Minho's hands cupping Jonghyun's face, Jonghyun's fingers twisting in Minho's shirt. He pressed closer and parted his lips to let Minho in and Minho's thumbs stroked his cheekbones tenderly. They stumbled a little in their haste and Jonghyun's back met the fridge so hard the jars clinked together inside, some sounding like they fell over. They stopped for half a breath, startled eyes locking together, before they sought out each other’s lips again, desperate and hurried.

“Wait,” Jonghyun panted when Minho tore his lips away to press kisses down his throat, his hands moving down to grip Jonghyun's hips and move a leg in-between his. “Wait, Minho…” Jonghyun weaved his fingers into his hair to bring his lips up for another kiss. “Not in the kitchen.”

Minho pressed closer into him and claimed his lips again, kissing him for a long moment before moving backwards, pulling Jonghyun, who did his best not to stumble, with him. Jonghyun didn’t remember how they made their way to Minho's room but decided not to dwell on it as his back met the mattress of Minho's bed, Minho pushing him up, closer to the center. He climbed onto the bed after him, settling above him, and their hips rolled together instinctively. They both gasped and Minho rolled his hips down again, one of his hands sneaking underneath Jonghyun's t-shirt.

“Fuck,” Jonghyun whimpered as burning fingers trailed up his stomach with another grind of their hips. His hands came down to grasp Minho's hips and pull him down with every roll, forcing him to do it harder.

“Jonghyun,” Minho growled, burying his face in the crook of his neck, his voice sending trembling vibrations through his every nerve.

Jonghyun answered with an unintelligible mess of syllables, the movement of their bodies making it impossible for him to think straight. He pulled at Minho's shirt, managing to get it off as Minho sat back to help him. Then he pulled Jonghyun onto his lap and took off his shirt as well, seeking out his lips again once they were both shirtless.

“Minho,” Jonghyun gasped as Minho rolled his hips up into his. “Do you have anything?”

Minho's lips moved to his collarbone and Jonghyun wasn’t sure he had heard him. He forgot all about it when Minho rolled his hips up again.

“No,” Minho growled into his skin. “Dammit.”

Jonghyun shared the sentiment and chuckled breathlessly. He lay back down on the bed, pulling Minho with him and began kissing him again as his hands found the button of his jeans and popped it open. Minho pulled back for a moment to give him a questioning look, but Jonghyun simply grinned at him and surged up to catch his lips. He pushed Minho's pants down, then undid his own, taking both of their arousals in his hand. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips when Minho gasped in surprise and pleasure.

Soon they were both sweating and panting messes, their hips rocking together desperately. Jonghyun had a private little moment where he wondered what the hell he was doing. Even if there was a mutual attraction between them, Minho loved Taemin, which made this entire situation all sorts of wrong.

The thought was fleeting, however, because as he looked up at Minho he could see him looking right back, unwavering and fierce, and it made every cell in his body tingle. And just like that, they were back in their little bubble, which Jonghyun never, ever wanted to leave. It was okay, what they were doing, because Minho wanted it as well. Jonghyun wasn’t forcing anything.

As if Minho had read his mind, he kissed him again, one of his hands travelling down to grab Jonghyun's thigh and put it around his hip as he ground down harder. It didn’t take long for both of them to tumble over the edge, the grinding of their hips slowing to gentle rocking as they panted against each other’s lips in between kisses and pecks.

“So, you’re not mad about the kiss then?” Jonghyun breathed once they had finally stopped and Minho was hovering above him, supported on an arm by Jonghyun's head.

Minho snorted and pressed their foreheads together.

“I’m not mad about the kiss,” he murmured.

Jonghyun smiled and pecked his lips. Minho leaned in for a deeper kiss, the hand still on Jonghyun's thigh gripping harder. Then he rolled over onto his side, pulling Jonghyun against his chest and burying his face in his hair, breathing in deeply. Jonghyun wound his arm around Minho's waist, rubbing gentle circles into his back.

He didn’t know what time it was or when Jinki would be home, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Right now he just simply wanted to stay in Minho's arms, in their little bubble, and not worry about all the ways their actions could potentially end very badly.

 

 

* * *

  

 

It took them quite a while to get the energy and will to move again. Minho just felt so relaxed and sluggish and Jonghyun didn’t seem any different, judging by the slow smile spreading on his lips when Minho looked down at him. He snuggled closer and nosed Minho's jaw up to press a kiss where it connected to his throat. Minho's arms tightened around him, his heart doing a weird, almost painful, stutter.

This was it. He was in love. There was definitely no escaping it now.

They made their way to the bathroom after a few more minutes of just lying in bed, exchanging soft kisses, and Minho handed Jonghyun a towel so he could clean himself up while he took his own and dampened it with warm water. They didn’t speak. No words were needed. Instead they gave each other small touches continuously, as if they couldn’t help themselves and had to have some contact with a brush of fingertips here and a gentle hand on a back there. Jonghyun looked pensive and distant a few times, which left an unsettled feeling in Minho's stomach.

When they got back to Minho's room and located their shirts, putting them on, Jonghyun apparently decided he needed more than soft touches. Just as Minho's shirt came down his head, his collar was unceremoniously grabbed and he was pulled into a kiss. His hands automatically came up to rest on Jonghyun's hips as Jonghyun repeatedly pressed soft kisses to his lips, his arms falling around Minho's neck.

“Jonghyun… what…?” Minho murmured in-between kisses, although his hands travelled up his back to hug him closer.

Jonghyun gave him a last, lingering kiss before pulling back, smiling. It was shy but serene, and Minho couldn’t hep but think it was a little wistful as well.

“I should probably get the cardigan back to Kibum,” Jonghyun said quietly.

Minho nodded but didn’t let go of him. He had a strange sense of foreboding, something in his core humming out of tune.

“You’ll come back for dinner?” he asked.

Jonghyun bit his lip and Minho frowned.

“Yeah,” he breathed after a millisecond of hesitation.

Minho nodded again and reluctantly released him from his arms. They stood in each other’s personal space for a while, ensconced in their little bubble, drinkng in each other's faces. Minho didn’t want Jonghyun to leave for even just a second. He was afraid that when he did, the guilt would be unbearable and that he would be the kind of asshole Kibum thought he was. And Jonghyun didn’t deserve it.

They shared a long kiss by the door. It felt too much like a last kiss and Minho tried not to show how it worried him. He decided not to dwell on it since they would see each other later and closed the door behind Jonghyun, returning to the living room and throwing himself down on the couch. The TV was still on and he frowned at the close-up of a splotchy-faced girl with mascara tracks running down her cheeks. He picked up the remote and changed it to another channel with more put together people, staring at them making some kind of three layered cake for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh and leaning his head back, his eyes closing.

He’d thought the guilt would have set in by now, but all he felt was warm and content and positive for the first time in a while. But there was still that nagging feeling of unease somewhere deep inside him.

He still couldn’t figure out why being with Jonghyun was so different either. He and Taemin were actually quite similar. They were both cheery and exuded positive energy. They were also earnest, though mischievous at times.

He smiled a little to himself.

And they both were nosy and curious and stubborn. He had never been able to keep secrets from Taemin – he was surprised he hadn’t called Minho out on his crush during all those years he’d loved him – and Jonghyun read him like an open book, always there by some sort of miracle, even when Minho didn’t know he needed him.

A prickling sense of dread settled over him when he realised he could very well be forced to choose between them.

And he had no idea if he would be able to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time since he’d met Minho, Jonghyun was actually scared of getting his heart broken. Being with Minho, kissing him, watching his flushed cheeks, and feeling his warm fingers all over his body had felt more right than with any other person he’d ever been with before – and they weren’t even dating.

Heavy realisation settled over Jonghyun's chest, turning his breaths shallow and causing a falter in his steps. This was it. Minho was it for him. How had he not seen it coming?

He’d felt calm about everything when they were together, because they had still had their little bubble, and in it there was only them, protected and safe. But Jonghyun knew as soon as he left, Minho would be left to his own thoughts – just like he himself was – and he was terrified of what conclusions he would come to. It was already too late for Jonghyun to back out now without getting hurt immensely, and he wished he’d listened to Kibum and been more careful. He had just been too stubborn to let it go, especially since he knew had been helping Minho at least a little.

He groaned inwardly and decided to trust that if he and Minho were meant to be, it would happen. If not, he’d just have to live with the mistakes he’d made and move on, however hard it would be.

“I thought you had forgotten! What took you so long?!” Kibum's voice pierced through his thoughts. “You didn’t even answer your phone!”

Jonghyun blinked and looked up at his friend standing behind the front desk, arms crossed. Bewildered, he glanced around. He couldn’t remember making his way to the hotel, but there he was, in the lobby, which was quite empty. He patted his pockets and frowned when he realised his phone was gone. Had it fallen out in Minho's and his haste?

“Uh… yeah… sorry…” he mumbled distractedly as he approached him and held out the cardigan.

Kibum narrowed his eyes at him, his arms falling to his sides. Instead of taking the cardigan, he grabbed Jonghyun's wrist and pulled him closer, scrutinising him. Jonghyun grimaced as his arm twisted in a weird angle over the desk.

“What’s the big idea?” he asked Kibum, annoyed.

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Kibum retorted, but there was no heat behind his words. He simply looked worried. “Are you okay?”

Jonghyun met his eyes and contemplated lying, but decided Kibum didn’t deserve it. He closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

Kibum used the grip on Jonghyun's wrist to pull him to the opening in the front desk and bring him over to a chair. He pushed him down on it, pulled another up to face him and waited quietly as Jonghyun stared down at his fingers, fiddling with the cardigan still in his hands.

“Kibum… I…” he started hoarsely and cleared his throat, a lump forming quickly. “I think Minho's the one… he’s it for me and now I’m scared.”

Kibum hummed.

“Even though he’s attracted to me, he loves Taemin. He’s loved him for years and I can’t compete with that,” Jonghyun continued, voice breaking and hands trembling. Kibum put one of his own over them. “And I don’t want to compete either. Especially since Taemin has no way to voice his thoughts about anything.”

Kibum's fingers reached up and gently brushed away a stray tear.

“I love him,” Jonghyun confessed, his voice small and sad. “I really do.”

Silence fell between them again, only disrupted by Jonghyun's occasional sniffling. He was glad the lobby was empty of guests, because his tears kept flowing. Kibum sat with him, his fingers brushing his hair back every now and then before returning to grab his hands.

“Hey,” Kibum said softly after what seemed like forever. “Do you wanna hang out tonight? Have a sleepover or something?”

Jonghyun sniffled one last time and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“Don’t you have a date?” he asked, smiling weakly.

Kibum gave a faint smile back and shrugged.

“She would understand,” he said.

Jonghyun chuckled, but shook his head.

“No, it’s okay,” he murmured. “I need to go check on grandma anyway. I’ll probably stay at the hospital.”

Kibum considered him for a moment before nodding, glancing at his clock.

“And of course Sandeul’s late,” he sighed.

The smile spreading on Jonghyun's lips came a little easier this time. They had a new employee who started a week and a half ago. He’d been entrusted to Kibum and Jonghyun for his first week, and he was easily confused about the schedule as well as nearly always late to his shift, but he was a nice kid and Jonghyun actually thought he was funny. He knew Kibum had a soft spot for him too, though he liked to pretend he didn’t.

“I can cover for you, if you want?” he volunteered.

“No, it’s fine,” Kibum waved a hand at him dismissively. “You were going to the hospital. And,  _yes_ , I’m sure,” he added when Jonghyun opened his mouth.

Jonghyun gave him a nod and stood with a sigh, pulling a hand through his hair. He felt a little sluggish and foggy. He hadn’t been sleeping well recently, what with his grandmother’s condition not getting any better and his constant musings about Minho. Maybe it was finally catching up to him.

“Jonghyun,” Kibum called after him once he had made his way across half the lobby.

He stopped and turned to look at him inquiringly.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Kibum bit his lip, hesitating before squaring his shoulders and meeting Jonghyun's eyes determinedly.

“I think you shouldn’t eat dinner with them tonight,” he said.

Jonghyun watched him for a moment, swallowing harshly. Then he nodded slowly.

“Yeah…” he croaked. “I think so, too.”

Kibum gave a tight nod and Jonghyun sent him a small, listless wave before turning around and leaving, heart heavy in his chest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho sighed, staring at the ceiling above his bed dazedly. He stretched his arms out and flexed his fingers, watching the light of his lamp filter through them. Then he turned his palms down, towards him, and heat rose to his cheeks as his skin tingled with the memory of his hands sliding over Jonghyun's body, the softness of his skin, the welcoming warmth of his embrace, the burning desire sparking through his veins as they moved together.

He narrowed his eyes at his hands when he felt arousal stirring low in his belly and let his arms fall over his face, blocking out the light and the rest of the world.

His mind immediately took the chance to project images against his closed eyelids. Jonghyun splayed out on his bed, flush with arousal, his big, chocolate brown eyes so close to his he could almost see his own reflected back at him, his exploring fingers painting paths across Minho's back and shoulders, his breath against his lips, his throat, his collarbone, his hand bringing them over the edge.

Minho let go of a shaky breath and swallowed, a trickle of guilt spreading through him as he tried replacing the image of Jonghyun with Taemin. He frowned in concentration, trying to recall Taemin's voice, face, eyes, anything, but his mind continued to loop back to Jonghyun, evolving into situations much, much more intimate than they had actually been.

He brought his arms back down to his sides, blinking at the ceiling with another sigh, and willed away the hardness in his pants.

The front door opened and closed, startling him out of his dazed state.

“Hello?” Jinki called. “Minho? You home?”

Minho cleared his throat and sat up, checking the front of his pants was decently un-tented before standing up and walking out to greet Jinki.

“I’m here,” he answered as he rounded the corner to the entryway.

Jinki looked up from where he was untying his shoes and stilled. Minho raised his eyebrows at him.

“Did… something happen?” he asked and Minho frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Uh, well…” Jinki cleared his throat and averted his eyes in embarrassment, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Either the apartment has bugs or you… hooked up with someone…”

Minho's eyes widened and he took three quick steps to look in the mirror beside the door, gaze falling to a small hickey barely poking out from underneath the neckline of his t-shirt. He pulled at the shirt to reveal all of it and stared in disbelief. When had Jonghyun managed to do that? He didn’t remember.

Behind him, Jinki cleared his throat again.

“So…”

Minho turned and pinned him with a hard look. Jinki wrinkled his nose at him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t just pick up whomever from the street,” he continued. “Which, by omission, leaves Jonghyun as the suspect.”

Minho swallowed harshly.

“Hyung, I can–,” he began.

Jinki held up his hands to stop him.

“No, no,” he said quickly. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

Minho couldn’t answer, his eyes gluing themselves to the floor. He could practically feel Jinki's gaze burning through him, waiting for him to affirm he had control of the situation. He would have liked to lie. He really would, but then he’d be all alone with his tangled thoughts of Jonghyun and Taemin and he needed someone to help him, even if just a little.

“I don’t,” he mumbled finally.

There were a few long seconds of deafening silence and Minho didn’t dare look up at Jinki until he let out a loud, heavy sigh. One of his hands was pinching the bridge of his nose and he had squeezed his eyes shut.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Okay.”

His hand fell away and he looked up at Minho.

“Sit down,” he said, pointing to the couch. “I’m gonna make some tea for myself. Do you want anything?”

Minho opened his mouth to say hot chocolate, but thought better of it and closed it again, shaking his head. Jinki squinted at him as if he knew exactly what he had been thinking. Thankfully, he didn’t comment on it and turned on his heel, disappearing into the kitchen. Minho flopped down on the couch with a small groan and, instead of losing himself in his thoughts again, concentrated on the sounds of Jinki filling the water boiler and turning it on, cupboards opening and closing, cutlery clattering as Jinki grabbed for a spoon.

It didn’t take long until he joined him in the living room, striding over to the recliner and sitting down carefully to not spill his cup full of hot tea. He pulled his legs up to cross them and rested the cup on one of his knees as he proceeded to scrutinise Minho, clearly trying to decide how he should begin the conversation. Then he took a deep, steadying breath.

“Minho, I know I encouraged you to confess to Taemin,” he said.

It wasn’t what Minho had been expecting and he flinched, guilt burning through him as he thought about desiring Jonghyun more than Taemin. Jinki narrowed his eyes a little.

“And if you still feel you love him, I will once again tell you to confess to him when he wakes up,” Jinki continued.

Minho opened his mouth to thank him for his support, however much he was starting to doubt himself, but was cut off.

“ _However_ ,” Jinki said, his voice lowering and turning grave, “I will  _not_  support you using your attraction to Jonghyun to relieve your frustrations.”

Swallowing harshly, Minho opened and closed his mouth a few times, no sounds coming out. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand Jinki's point of view, he’d probably think the same if their roles were reversed.

The thing was, he  _wasn’t_  using Jonghyun. Although it would have made him a horrible person, he almost wished it were true. That Jinki and Kibum's fears and accusations were based on the truth and that he was just frustrated and in need of a distraction.

But Jonghyun was so much more than a distraction. He had realised it when it dawned on him that Jonghyun made him feel better that time he had stayed with Minho the entire night and kept him safe. Before that moment he’d thought exactly what Jinki and Kibum were thinking; Jonghyun was a distraction to him then too. But the more time passed, the more he realised how far from the truth it was.

Especially earlier today.

They had been so close and Minho's heart had just welled over with feelings and he hadn't been able to stop himself. Not because he was frustrated or needed distracting from Taemin, but because it was  _Jonghyun_  and Jonghyun was safe, and warm, and earnest.

“Shit,” he mumbled and curled in on himself.

Jinki was silent for a moment. Then he sighed softly.

“Now, I don’t think you would actually use Jonghyun,” he murmured. “But I have to make my stand clear.”

Minho simply nodded, staring down at his feet, and silence fell again as Jinki waited for him to start talking.

“Hyung,” Minho whispered after Jinki had taken his tenth sip of tea. “Do you know I’ve loved Taemin since I was seventeen?”

Jinki hummed.

“That’s ten years.” He breathed in deeply and looked up at Jinki. “And never once during those ten years did I think of him in more intimate settings than simply kissing him and cuddling. Even now, I still can’t imagine him in more intimate situations, but I  _know_  I love him.”

Jinki watched him without interrupting, his face open and attentive.

“And then I have Jonghyun, who’s just about everywhere,” he closed his eyes. “In my head, by my side, in my dreams. He’s…” Minho couldn’t help the small laugh that left him and opened his eyes again. “He’s my hot chocolate.”

Jinki smiled a little as well and Minho didn’t feel so bad about admitting it. Then he frowned.

“And yet,” he murmured, “I don’t think I could choose if I’d have to. I have Taemin, who I love more than anything, and Jonghyun, who I’m in love with. I just can’t figure out which love is right.”

Nodding, Jinki looked down into the contents of his cup, as if it held the answers he needed.

“I think,” he started thoughtfully, “that you love both of them differently, and that one is not better than the other. You’ll have to figure out the difference yourself but, unless you get some sort of closure with Taemin, I don’t think you’ll get your answer.” He glanced up at him. “And I’m sorry to say that I think you will hurt Jonghyun, no matter what happens.”

A cold lump settled in Minho's stomach, but he nodded.

“I know,” he whispered.

Jinki looked as if he wanted to say something more, but suddenly Minho's phone began ringing and he fished it out of his pocket, his heart sinking.

“It’s the hospital,” he informed Jinki, his voice shaky, and his fingers trembled as he pressed the answer button.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  

There was a bit of commotion when Jonghyun arrived at the hospital. Nurses walked as quickly as they could without alerting any patients of their urgency and two doctors hurried past him, murmuring under their breaths. He frowned a little at the worried air around them, but since he didn’t really know these nurses and doctors he didn’t dare ask.

Instead, he made his way to the elevators and up to his grandmother’s floor. She was asleep in her bed, her new knitting project in her lap. He gently extracted it from her grip and held it up to try and figure out what it was, but gave up and put it on her bedside table, next to her nearly untouched tray of food. He narrowed his eyes at the dry-looking potatoes and chicken, an uncomfortable trickle of worry trailing down his spine.

He forced himself to look away and sat quietly; listening to his grandmother’s soft breaths and watching her chest rise and fall. His mind was blissfully empty as he concentrated on the menial task of keeping an eye on her. He didn’t have the energy to worry about what tomorrow would bring nor what reason he would give Minho and Jinki for not going to their dinners.

Who knew love was this tiring?

Sighing, he sank lower in his chair, leaning his head against the backrest and staring at the setting sun creeping its way across the ceiling and out the window.

He had barely begun to drift off when a small, chubby nurse he knew quite well came into the room to retrieve the tray of food. Her steps faltered when she saw him and he sat up a little straighter.

“Hi, nurse Park,” Jonghyun greeted her and she gave him a soft smile.

“Hello, Jonghyun,” she answered. “Have you spoken to dr. Kim yet?”

Her expression looked a little off and he frowned at her.

“No,” he said slowly. “Is there a problem?”

She fingered the hem of the shirt to her scrubs, not quite meeting his eyes. Then she promptly turned to leave.

“I’ll go get her,” she informed over her shoulder. “She should still be here.”

Jonghyun stared after her in bewilderment, forbidden dread spreading through him. It didn’t take long for her to return, a solemn dr. Kim in tow. Her silver speckled hair was tied in a loose bun at her neck, and her white coat was a little rumpled, as if she had fallen asleep at her desk.

“Ah, Jonghyun,” she greeted and he stood up to take her hand.

“Hello, dr. Kim,” he forced out, fear drying up his throat.

She motioned towards the door and he followed her out, casting a last glance at his still peacefully sleeping grandmother before closing the door.

“I know I told you we just needed to keep your grandmother here for a few months for observation and that there was nothing wrong,” dr. Kim began and Jonghyun nodded. “But I’m afraid she has taken a turn for the worse and needs fulltime care.”

Jonghyun stared at her, suddenly not able to breathe.

“Oh, okay,” he choked. “Uhm, I’m not entirely sure what that means?”

Dr. Kim sighed softly, looking extremely reluctant to rely the next piece of information she had.

“Her organs are beginning to fail, little by little,” she finally said, low and sombre. Jonghyun's fingertips were cold and numb when he clenched his hands into fists. “We don’t know how long she has left to live and we are doing our very best to stop her decline in health.”

The cold had spread up Jonghyun's arms now, sinking its roots into his chest.

“I-I see…” He took a shuddering breath, his vision turning blurry. “Thank you.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, warm but not enough to melt the ice spreading through him.

“Would you like me to call your parents?” dr. Kim murmured.

Jonghyun shook his head and the first couple of tears rolled down his cheeks.

“No,” he murmured softly. “I’ll do it.”

The hand on his shoulder gave a gentle pat and he swallowed down the rest of his tears.

“We’ll do our best to help her,” dr. Kim promised.

Jonghyun nodded. She returned it with a nod of her own before turning and leaving.

He stood staring after her for a few long minutes, empty and cold. Then he dragged his sleeve over his eyes and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, sighing when he remembered he’d lost it. He went over to the nurse station instead, to where nurse Park had returned, and she handed him her personal phone without a word. He gave her a weak smile of gratitude and slumped down in one of the ugly couches by the station.

It took him a moment to gather the courage to dial his mother’s number and his heart was beating uncomfortably hard as the signals went through. He just hoped they would be able to come to the hospital. He wouldn’t be able to handle everything alone.

“Jonghyun?” his mother answered on the fourth ring, her voice tinny over the line.

“Hey mom,” he greeted her, trying to sound like he wasn’t crying but only ended up sounding fake in his own ears.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

The trepidation was clear in her voice and he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

“Dr. Kim told me that grandma might not be able to leave the hospital after all,” he mumbled and a sniffle escaped him. “Her organs are failing.”

The lined went silent, only his mother’s uneven breathing sounding through the earpiece.

“Oh, sweetie,” she sighed after what seemed like forever and Jonghyun could hear the tremble in her voice, which was the tell tale sign she was close to tears. “When– how long did they say she had left?”

Jonghyun wiped away the fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

“They don’t know,” he managed to get out followed by a sob. “Can you come? Dad too?”

There was a muffled sob on the other end of the line and Jonghyun wished he were there, with his mother, so he could hug her close.

“We’ll try to come as soon as we can,” she sniffled. “We need to find someone to take care of the shop, we can’t afford to close it with the medical bills for your grandmother and then we need to book a train ticket.”

“Okay,” Jonghyun agreed softly.

“Oh god,” his mother broke down in heavy sobs and he could do nothing else than cry silently as he listened to her. “I’m so s-sorry I’m n-not there wi-with you.”

“It’s okay, mom,” Jonghyun assured, voice wobbly.

He sat listening to her apologies and outbursts of disbelief, all the while mumbling ‘ _it’s okay_ ’s and ‘ _I know_ ’s.

“I love you, Jonghyun-ah,” she sniffled when she managed to calm down. “And be sure to tell your grandmother I love her too.”

“I will,” he promised.

“I’ll call you as soon as we can leave,” she vowed.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun breathed. “Love you.”

His mother let out a watery sound, said a weak ‘ _goodbye_ ’ and hung up. The hand holding the phone fell to his lap and he stared at it unseeingly. The thought of calling Kibum crossed his mind, but he decided against it since Kibum was most likely at work right now.

He sank lower and swallowed around the lump in his throat, closing his eyes.

He wished he had the courage to call Minho. But he’d never really talked to him about his grandmother, other than mentioning that she was in the long term care ward, and he didn’t want to burden him when he already had a lot to deal with regarding Taemin.

Which meant that, at the moment, there was just him, and he would simply have to bear it until his parents came.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His parents were already there when he threw the door to Taemin's room open. They startled and turned to him with reprimanding gazes but Minho ignored them and strode over to Taemin's side, putting himself between him and his parents protectively.

“What the hell did you say to the doctor?!” Minho questioned, barely able to keep his voice below a yell.

One of the nurses who took care of Taemin had called him and informed his parents had been called to the hospital for an emergency meeting and she thought Minho needed to know what was going on. And apparently they had been discussing terminating Taemin's life.

His parents exchanged a tired, sorrowful glance.

“Minho–,” his mother began.

“You actually  _considered_  ending his life support?!” Minho cut him off. “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“Don’t swear at your mother, Minho,” his father warned.

Minho gave him the deadliest glare he could muster; opening his mouth to tell him he could kindly fuck off.

“We won’t do anything without us all agreeing,” his mother managed to say before he could start a fight with his father. “But the doctor wanted to discuss this with us as his legal guardians. Did you speak with the doctor before you came in here?”

Minho frowned.

“No.”

His mother took a shaky breath and his father pulled her under his arm.

“Taemin worsened today,” he said and all air left Minho.

“What?” he croaked.

His father swallowed and his mother was chewing on her lip so insistently he worried she would hurt herself.

“His brain activity lowered and his heart gave out for a moment,” his father continued, his voice hoarse with tears he fought to hold back. A tear rolled down his mother’s cheek. “They think this is a sign it’s time for us to let go. It’s apparently hard to recover from such a deep coma as the one he is in now.”

Minho's legs gave out and he stumbled back onto the edge of Taemin's bed, his lungs refusing to work properly. He bent forward, trying to keep from hyperventilating. His mother kneeled down in front of him, grabbing his face in her hands and drying away tears he hadn’t noticed falling from his eyes.

“I can’t,” he choked. “Mom, I can’t…”

She stood up and pulled him into her arms.

“I know, honey,” she murmured into his hair, petting it soothingly.

Something was off, and he couldn’t put his finger on it, nor did he care at the moment. He just needed to know no one would dare touch Taemin and the buttons keeping him alive.

His father stepped up and rubbed his back between his shoulder blades.

“Let’s not make that decision now,” he said softly. “We were merely discussing actions to take in this scenario, and the doctor told us the chance of Taemin recovering is not that great even if we wait to see if his condition improves again.”

Minho nodded numbly, hearing his father’s voice as if through a wall of water. A shiver went through him and he realised he was actually quite cold. Just as it dawned on him he shivered again and his mother’s arms around him tightened.

“We should go home and sleep,” she said.

Minho stiffened and pulled out of her arms a little, casting a glance at Taemin.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “No one will touch anything unless we say so.”

Unease still crawled under his skin, but he nodded and let his mother pull him up and over to the door.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” his father said as they entered the elevator. “You should come home tonight.”

Minho shook his head. His apartment was closer to the hospital so if something happened he would be there the fastest.

“I’d rather stay close to the hospital,” he mumbled and his parents exchanged another look but said nothing.

Minho had no recollection of how he got home. He didn’t even remember how he’d gotten to the hospital. Had he taken the car? The bus? Had he run there? But once he was inside the door something broke and he sank to the floor, sobbing so hard his throat hurt.

Jinki was by his side in an instant. He didn’t ask, which Minho was eternally grateful for. He wasn’t sure he could have told him even if he had wanted to. Instead, he helped him to his feet after pulling his shoes off and led him over to his bedroom, pushing him into bed.

Minho curled up under the covers, shivering uncontrollably. He should have been sweating since it was the beginning of summer but his body didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

A distant thought of hot chocolate passed his mind just before he fell asleep and he wondered why he hadn’t drank any yet.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Jonghyun woke up the next day and trudged into the nurses break area to get some breakfast, he felt weird. As if something was off.

He shook it off as he entered the room and plopped down in a chair beside nurse Lee, who was the only one he knew out of the three nurses in the room. She alternated her routes between the long term care ward and the intensive care unit. She was also his informant about Taemin's condition, since he was in the ICU.

“Good morning, Jonghyun,” she greeted him and ruffled his hair.

He grumbled under his breath but smiled. She was only a few years older than him and loved to treat him like her little brother.

“Why are you up this early?” she asked and handed him one of the red bean buns on the table.

“I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep.” He shrugged and stuffed his mouth with the bun.

She narrowed her eyes at him a little. Then her face fell and she bit her lip. Jonghyun raised his eyebrows at her when she met his gaze, his mouth too full to speak.

“Uh, you know how you asked me to keep you updated on that boy in a coma,” she started, voice hesitant and reluctant.

The bread in his mouth suddenly swelled and he nearly choked, not sure if he should be afraid or hopeful. He nodded at her to continue and she sighed.

“Well, he worsened yesterday,” she murmured. “And the doctors as well as the parents are discussing turning the machines off.”

Jonghyun swallowed harshly, the rest of the bun in his hand crushed into a sticky mess.

“Wha–,” he croaked and cleared his throat. “What about the son?”

Her gaze grew soft and sad.

“I only saw him on the way out, but he looked like he was barely holding it together.”

Jonghyun swallowed around the lump in his throat and managed to thank her. After throwing away what was left of his bread, he dragged his feet back to his grandmother’s room and sank down on the bed with his head in his hands, his breath shaky.

Did he go to Minho? Or did he ignore it and trust Jinki and Minho's parents to handle it? Because that was what a normal person would do, right? They wouldn’t butt into someone else’s business and think they were doing something helpful. They would stay out of it and let family and close friends handle it.

He squeezed his eyes shut and flopped down on his back.

What the hell was he supposed to  _do_?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho stared at the darkening sky outside his window, his limbs and chest heavy and his eyes burning.

Taemin was going to die.

No, Taemin couldn’t die. Taemin was a fighter.

But this wasn’t Taemin's choice; it was his body’s.

It was still Taemin, though. His Minnie. And he would definitely not give up.

What if he had already left for a better place? Where he was happier?

No, no, no, Taemin was happy with Minho. He’d said so when they adopted him.

Minho choked a sob and sat up, clutching his head and wishing all of his thoughts would just go away. He had a throbbing headache and a prickling feeling was spreading across his skin along with the hollow helplessness digging itself a hole in his chest. He bit his lip to keep from screaming and a metallic taste filled his mouth. He hadn’t even noticed he’d bit down that hard.

He wanted peace. Quiet. No more thoughts and no more pain. He wanted Taemin to wake up, to sit with him on the couch and comment on everything on TV, to spend holidays at his parents’ house by his side like always, to turn back time so he never even got into the accident.

He wanted Taemin back. Now.

He didn’t sleep that night. He didn’t even attempt it after the first few hours of sleep, which had him waking with a pounding heart and cold sweat, dreams of standing by Taemin's grave burning in his mind’s eye. He faintly heard Jinki bustle around in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, but he continued sitting on his bed, head in his hands and lump in his throat.

After a while, Minho didn’t know how long, there was a soft knock on his door.

“Minho?” Jinki asked softly.

“Yeah?” he answered hoarsely.

There was a beat of silence and a shuffling on the other side of the door, as if Jinki couldn’t decide if he should enter or not.

“I’m gonna go out and buy some bread,” Jinki said at last, cracking the door open. “We don’t have any for breakfast.”

Minho nodded and closed his eyes, guilt heavy in his stomach at the worry and fear he could hear underneath the forced normalcy of Jinki's tone. He half expected him to ask him to keep away from sharp objects and not move from his spot, but Jinki only mumbled he would be back soon. Then he left.

Silence roared around him, but not loud enough to drown out his thoughts and he pressed his lips together. He picked up his phone, deciding to call Jinki and tell him to go home to his own apartment. He needed to be alone right now. He just wanted to be alone and piece himself together again, attempt to accept the sorrow.

The doorbell cut through the silence and his buzzing mind. His head whipped around and he stared into the hallway, frowning, unsure he had even heard right.

Then it rang again.

He stood up heavily, his movements lethargic and heavy. He was so tired, so exhausted. He just wanted to sleep until Taemin woke up, so he wouldn’t have to deal with these tumbling emotions.

He opened the door, expecting to see Jinki's sheepish expression because he had forgotten his keys again, but his heart lodged itself in his throat and he made a choked sound, taking a step back.

Jonghyun stood on the other side, his forehead creased and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He looked bleak, as if he’d had a hellish night himself. There were bags under his eyes and his hair looked unkempt but soft as always. He opened and closed his mouth a few times while Minho watched him blankly, the prickling feeling on his skin ceasing and the helplessness in his chest dissipating.

Then anger bubbled its way through his veins and he clenched his jaw. He didn’t  _need_  Jonghyun to feel better. He didn’t  _want_  to need Jonghyun. He needed Taemin. He had to need Taemin; otherwise Taemin would never wake up. The cosmos would think Minho had moved on and thus deem it unnecessary for Taemin to come back.

"What are  _you_  doing here?" he growled, sounding a lot more intimidating than he intended. He almost,  _almost_ , felt guilty when Jonghyun visibly flinched.

"Minho," he sounded almost pleading, reaching out a hesitant hand. "I–"

"I don't need you!" Minho suddenly exploded, the words causing its own explosion in his chest. He hadn’t known it would feel like such a big and utter lie. But he couldn’t stop. "I don't want you! I don't want you  _here_! You're such a fucking nuisance!"

Jonghyun's hand faltered midway, and he bit his lip again in an apparent attempt to hold back the tears Minho could see gathering in his eyes. His arm went limp and fell to his side.

"Wh–"

"For fuck's sake, when will you  _get it_  Jonghyun?!" Minho was yelling now. "I want  _Taemin_! I want  _Taemin_ to be here! I want  _Taemin_ to love me! Not  _you_! You will destroy everything!"

Minho glared at him, breath heavy and ragged. He felt all around shitty and horrible again, which only increased when silent tears slid down Jonghyun's cheeks. Jonghyun was biting his lip so hard by now Minho was sure it was going to start bleeding, ironically matching his own lip from just a while ago.

He was an asshole, he knew that, but he needed to get Jonghyun out of his life. He needed to get everyone away right now because he was suffocating with grief and felt like never ever loving another person ever again. He was angry and scared and he just wanted Taemin to be okay. Why was that too much to ask?

"I–," Jonghyun let out in a sob, "sorry," was all he choked out before turning around and bolting out the door, not bothering to close it behind him.

Minho growled angrily and threw his phone across the room, which wasn’t the smartest thing to do as it shattered from the force with which it hit the wall. He ignored it in favour of slamming the door closed and stomping back to his room, throwing himself onto his bed to then glare at the ceiling.

He was so angry. Furious even. He didn’t know why, but it was there, simmering underneath his skin. He wanted to scream and kick and trash. Everything was wrong. So, so wrong. He was mad at his parents and the doctors for suggesting letting Taemin go, at the nurses for not taking better care of him, and even at Taemin for taking so long to wake up.

But most of all, he was so extremely angry with himself. Because as the silence crept over him again – numbing out the anger and refilling him with the empty, helpless feeling – he was pretty sure he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It took Minho approximately fifteen minutes until the guilt and regret grew too painful to bear, slowly burning him from inside out. He rolled out of bed, his actions hurried and anxious. He had screwed up big time. Jonghyun was genuine and kind and impossibly compassionate, and how had Minho treated him? Like trash. Worse still, Minho had met no one who deserved it less than him.

A lump settled in his throat.

He didn’t bother tying his shoelaces or locking the door behind him, choosing to sprint down the stairs two at a time rather than waiting for the elevator. He had already wasted so much time. Jonghyun could be anywhere by now.

Stumbling out of the building, he scanned the street the best he could, his heart knocking painfully against his ribs. It sank when he couldn’t find any sign of blond hair or anything remotely similar to Jonghyun anywhere.

Of course he wouldn’t have stayed around. No sane person would after the treatment Minho had given him.

He cursed under his breath and hurried on.

Just as he reached the corner of the street, he crashed into someone and they tumbled to the pavement in a mess of limbs.

“Minho?” he heard Jinki groan beside him.

Minho looked up to see him nearly half sitting in his lap.

“Hyung!” he breathed urgently. “Did you see Jonghyun on your way home?”

Frowning, Jinki shook his head and untangled himself from him. He stood, holding out a hand to help Minho up as well. Minho accepted it gratefully, but once on his feet he couldn’t stand still, switching his weight from one foot to the other as he glanced around.

“Minho, what’s going on?” Jinki asked, eyeing him suspiciously as Minho moved around him to continue down the street.

“I don’t have time to explain now,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Ignoring Jinki's confused call after him, he turned and sprinted away, swerving in-between people, and narrowly avoiding crashes a few times, not even stopping to apologise, only shouting ‘ _Sorry!_ ’ over his shoulder as he continued his search for Jonghyun.

It wasn’t until he stopped at an intersection, trying to decide which street to take, that his brain caught up to him.

Searching the streets was entirely futile, he realised. There were so many people and so much time had already passed. He had next to no chance of finding Jonghyun anywhere.

Defeat crashed over him and he stood panting, hand pressing to the stich in his side as he stared at the red light. Another crushing thought came to him and he had to fight to not scream in anger.

If Jonghyun had gone home, Minho had no idea which way to go. He’d never bothered to find out where Jonghyun lived.

The pain following the anger made it harder to breathe for a moment and he bent over, hands on his knees. He had never actually cared enough about Jonghyun, not the way Jonghyun had cared about him. And now that it was too late, the regret was unbearable.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and tried to breathe thorough the pain and self-loathing filling him, listening to cars pass and people chatter around him.

Then it struck him.

The hospital.

What little he actually  _did_ know about Jonghyun was that he spent a lot of time in the hospital, so going there was his best bet for now.

He squashed down his feelings, straightened, opened his eyes, and turned in the direction of the hospital. It was a bit to walk, but he was too impatient to go back for his car, so he set off running once more.

When he arrived at the hospital he was nearly coughing up his lungs and his legs were shaky from the exertion. He hadn’t run this much since his high school years when he’d been in the track team. But he didn’t bother with the elevator, though he felt as if he would collapse any second. Instead he took the stairs, faintly remembering Jonghyun pressing the button for floor five that one time they had taken the elevator together.

Taking the steps two at a time, he soon arrived at a floor which looked more like a common room than a hospital ward. There were old people sitting around every table placed with even spacing throughout the room, playing games or drinking coffee or tea. Their voices were a soft murmur and it would have been soothing had Minho not been on his extremely urgent mission to find Jonghyun.

His heart sank as he scanned all the small clusters of people and only found slivery, thinning grey hair, not the blond, soft, glowing hair he needed.

“Oh!” someone said behind him and he swivelled around, coming face to face with a young nurse about two heads shorter than him, her dark hair pulled into a neat bun.

He gave her a questioning look.

“Are you looking for Jonghyun?” she asked.

He opened his mouth to ask her how she could possibly know that when she spoke again, clearly not expecting an answer.

“He’s not here right now,” she continued. “He went out somewhere about an hour ago and hasn’t been back yet. I’d tell you to come back this evening since he sleeps here a lot, but we don’t really let visitors stay after visiting hours.” She shook her head a little.

Minho was about to tell her he already knew that. They’d only let him stay late the first few nights of Taemin's coma because they wanted him to adjust to the hospital better. But he was interrupted once again.

“Though we make an exception for Jonghyun,” she smiled fondly. “It’s hard not to care about him and we don’t have the heart to chase him away. He’s just so warm and friendly and he often lights up our days.”

Minho swallowed harshly, his skin suddenly feeling way too small.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak out. “He has that effect on people.”

Smiling, the nurse patted his arm.

“I’m sure he’ll be here tomorrow,” she consoled and her face turned sombre. “His grandmother took a turn for the worse. He hardly left her side before, but I think it will be impossible to pry him away from her now.”

Minho's heart sank. He hadn’t known that. Of course he hadn’t known that, because he had never bothered to ask.

“His parents haven’t found the time to come either, so he’s all alone,” she continued sadly.

He wished she would stop talking.

“Nurse Lee!” someone called from down the hall and the nurse turned.

“I have to go,” she told Minho and he couldn’t be more relieved.

He returned her wave with a weak one of his own as she hurried down to where she was needed. When she was out of sight he staggered over to one of the couches and sank down on it, leaning his elbows on his knees and pressing his face into his hands, trying not to let the burning behind his eyes turn into tears.

It had been a mistake to come to the hospital. It only made him further realise how little he actually knew about Jonghyun. Had he ever even bothered? He’d just taken him for granted and this was his punishment for hurting his guardian angel. He hadn’t even put Jonghyun's phone number into his phone yet, though it didn’t matter much now since it was broken anyway.

His hands fell from his face and he sat up straighter.

Jinki had Jonghyun's number.

He shot from the couch, causing a few older women to jump in shock. Apologising hastily, he bowed and tried not to startle anyone else by half running, half power walking back to the stairs.

Once he had exited the hospital he set off at high speed again, down the street and all the way home, falling through the door.

“Hyung!” he yelled hoarsely, trying to catch his breath. “Jinki!”

Jinki stumbled out of the living room in his hurry to get to the hallway, his eyes wide and astonished.

“What?” he asked. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Minho shook his head, bending over and clutching his side.

“C-call,” he coughed out. “Jonghyun.”

Jinki frowned.

“Okay…” he said slowly. “Why?”

Minho shook his head again, this time in frustration.

“ _Please_ ,” he pleaded through his breaths. “I need… to speak to… him.”

Still frowning, Jinki pulled his phone out of his pocket, pressed a few buttons, and put it to his ear.

The silence that fell was only interrupted by Minho's heavy breathing as he watched the frown on Jinki's face deepen. After a few moments, which seemed to stretch out forever, he sighed and pulled the phone from his ear.

“The operator says the number is out of use at the moment,” he informed.

Minho groaned, punching the wall.

“God damn it!” he growled, barely noticing the throbbing of his hand. “I guess this is what I deserve.”

Jinki stared at him quietly for a moment. Then he put his phone away, grabbed Minho's arm and pulled him to the living room where he pushed him onto the couch.

“You really did hurt Jonghyun,” he stated.

His tone wasn’t accusing, nor was it angry, just laid out like a simple fact, as if he had been waiting for it to happen. Which, judging by what he had said yesterday, he probably had.

Minho leaned his head back and swallowed harshly; suddenly feeling very close to tears again.

“I did,” he admitted softly, barely audible, and his chest clenched. A tear escaped and ran down his temple into his hair. He closed his eyes to keep the others from doing the same. “I hurt him.”

Silence met him, but he didn’t dare open his eyes and lift his head to look at Jinki. He was ashamed and miserable and angry with himself.

“You know,” Jinki began slowly after a long stretch of silence, “this morning I read an interesting thing about love. I was going to show it to you, since I thought it might apply to your situation.”

This time, Minho did raise his head to look at him.

“What?”

“Yeah, something about love and how it has been viewed through different eras,” Jinki continued. “And it mentioned that in ancient Greece they used to believe there were seven different kinds of love.”

Blinking, Minho straightened up and turned so his entire body was facing Jinki, wiping his cheeks and giving him his full attention.

“Okay,” he probed.

“So, it got me thinking.” Jinki smiled faintly. “And, well… do you want to hear what I have concluded from the article?”

“Please,” Minho nodded. “If it means I can get Jonghyun to even want to look at me again after today.”

Jinki's smile widened, as if that was the answer he wanted, but still he shook his head faintly.

“Okay, first I’d like you to think for yourself what your love for Jonghyun means and the same with your love for Taemin,” he said. “I don’t want to influence you, though, by the happenings over the past hour and a half, I don’t think I will.”

Minho had no idea what that meant, but he decided not to question it.

“Okay, um…” He ran his hands through his hair and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “So, it’s kind of hard to explain exactly  _why_  I love Taemin.” Jinki nodded. “But I guess I… began paying more attention than normal to his everything a few months after he moved in with us. He was just around all the time and we saw each other every hour of the day and I realised that we were touching more than normal, like his hand on my arm and my hand on his back and all the times he would sneak into my room because he couldn’t sleep alone. We shared my bed most of the time for a few years and the closeness grew and I started feeling very conscious of him and my heart would occasionally skip a beat when we touched or our gazes caught and he smiled.”

Humming Jinki tilted his head, regarding Minho thoughtfully.

“But now?” he asked.

“Now?” Minho blinked.

“Well, you said your heart  _would_  skip a beat,” Jinki clarified. “Past tense. It doesn’t skip anymore?”

Minho frowned and looked down at his hands, lacing his fingers together.

“Yeah, it hasn’t really skipped as much for at least the past year,” he admitted. “But I figure that’s just because in the beginning my feelings for Taemin were new and now they’ve had the time to sink in and grow deeper. It’s not a juvenile crush anymore.”

“I agree. But…” Jinki hesitated. “Does your heart skip a beat when you’re with Jonghyun?”

Minho's head shot up and he stared at him. His mouth fell open when he realised, that yes, it actually did.

“It does…” he answered. “It did that one time I actually accepted I was in love with him and… well…” His sentence died out and his cheeks felt a little warm at the memory of their one, and only, sexual encounter. “But then everything just fell apart with Taemin and I… I pushed him away…” Minho snorted half-heartedly. “I’m so stupid. Jonghyun is caring and warm and soft and safe and wonderful and…” It felt like a hand gripped his heart and squeezed. “Everything I want.”

If only he had realised it earlier.

Minho buried his face in his hands, sighing.

“What’s wrong with me?” he moaned. “He is basically my guardian angel. And it sounds insane, but whenever we’re alone it’s like there’s nothing else and we’re in this bubble and nothing hurts and everything’s all right.”

He heard Jinki shift and take a deep breath.

“I don’t know what’s  _wrong_  with you, exactly,” he answered teasingly and Minho appreciated his attempt at lightening the mood. “Though, this kind of does fall in line with my theory.”

Minho looked up at him through his fingers.

“Which is?”

“Well, the way I would explain your feelings for Taemin is; it was the kind of love that tested out how it actually  _was_  to be in love for the first time, since you were young at the time,” Jinki explained. “It was a new sensation and it was exciting and maybe even dangerous or forbidden. And because you and Taemin spent so much time together it grew, though I think it grew more into a familial love, just that you misinterpreted the feelings once they settled down because in the beginning it had actually been another, non-familial love.”

Minho pressed his lips together in thought. It kind of made sense, if he thought about it. At least it felt as if Jinki was putting words to what he couldn’t explain.

“And I did tell you to confess to him,” Jinki continued. “Because that was the strongest feelings I had ever seen you have for anyone and I didn’t think to analyse it… until Jonghyun came into your life…” He sighed. “Jonghyun was this force stumbling in and you were just swept along, though you resisted. I cannot say for sure, because I really haven’t much to go on with the two of you, but I think your love for Jonghyun is very passionate once you allow yourself to let go of Taemin. And judging by the way you described what you feel with Jonghyun I would guess this could grow into a deeper love that would hold for quite some time… if only you weren’t so scared of letting Taemin go…”

Letting out a weak laugh, Minho shook his head.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “If only…”

“Why are you so scared Minho?”

He met Jinki's questioning eyes and sighed, shrugging faintly.

“I don’t know… I just feel like, if I let go of Taemin and move on he won’t ever come back.” He sighed deeply. “What if there is such a thing as a higher power or some sort of natural balance and the minute I let go of Taemin it will take him? I can’t let him die.”

Jinki smiled a little.

“I know for a fact that if he ever hears you say that when he wakes up, he’ll smack you to the other side of the country,” he chuckled softly.

Minho's lips pulled into a small smile.

“Yeah,” he huffed a soft laugh. “He would.”

“So, what do you think of my analysis?” Jinki asked.

Minho snorted.

“It feels like you just sorted out the jumbled mess in my brain,” he said. “I feel so clearheaded now.”

“I’m glad I helped,” Jinki smiled. “So… what are you going to do?”

“First, I need to find Jonghyun somehow,” Minho said. “Apologise to him and tell him… tell him I fell in love with him too. I don’t think he knows. Though he might not want to give me another chance.”

“Well,” Jinki stood up, “you won’t know if you don’t try.”

Minho grimaced.

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly.

Jinki stretched as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Didn’t you say he worked at the front desk in a hotel?” he called over his shoulder. “Maybe you should look there?”

Minho's eyes widened and he gaped at Jinki's retreating form.

“I didn’t think of that!” he exclaimed and shot to his feet.

He hoped Jonghyun had the evening shift.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

To say Kibum looked furious would be an understatement.

No, no. He looked  _livid_. Had Jonghyun not tackled him to the floor he’d be out Jonghyun’s door and halfway to Minho and Jinki's apartment by now.

“Let me go, Jonghyun!” Kibum growled as he struggled.

Jonghyun tightened his arms around his upper body, pinning his arms to his sides.

“No,” he said breathlessly. Kibum was stronger than he looked, so it was no easy task to keep him subdued. “Please Kibum, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

The laugh Kibum let out was dark and vicious.

“Like I would regret putting that prick in his place,” he muttered as they continued struggling on the floor. “I’d really like nothing else than to remodel his stupid face.”

“Kibum,” Jonghyun groaned. “ _Don’t_.”

After a few minutes of wrestling both of them collapsed on their backs, side by side, in Jonghyun's living room, panting heavily and staring at the ceiling while trying to regain their breaths.

“I  _told_  you, Jonghyun,” Kibum said softly. “I told you I didn’t like the situation with Minho.”

A small, wistful smile curled Jonghyun's lips and his vision blurred. He’d already cried so much his eyes felt like sandpaper, but he couldn’t help the sob escaping him and threw an arm over his eyes as tears ran down his temples, into his hair.

It hurt. It really hurt how, though he’d been scared, a small part of him had dared believe that maybe there actually could be something with Minho, only to have him break his heart the day after. He was only glad it had happened so soon. He was sure it would have hurt a whole lot more if he’d had time to let that hope grow.

“Yeah,” he choked out, trying not to let another sob out. “You did.”

There was the sound of rustling clothes and then Kibum's arms were around him, pulling him to his chest.

“Oh, Jonghyun,” he sighed and caressed his hair. “I’m so sorry this had to happen to you.”

Jonghyun laughed weakly.

“It’s kinda my own fault, anyway,” he mumbled through his tears. “I couldn’t just mind my own business.”

Kibum's arms tightened around him and he let out a low, angry noise.

“No,” he growled. “You are  _not_  to blame. Minho's the one who can’t appreciate what a wonderful person you are.”

Jonghyun's tears ran faster and he turned to bury his face in Kibum's chest, gripping the back of his shirt and finally letting the sobs he’d tried to keep at bay rattle through him. Kibum held him tighter and murmured soft nonsense in an attempt to calm him down and Jonghyun burrowed closer. It took him a while, but finally his sobs quieted into sniffles and the flood of his tears lessened to a gentle trickle.

Kibum stayed quiet, though he pulled Jonghyun closer. Jonghyun's eyes were dry and he could barely keep them open. But he knew he couldn’t fall asleep there. He needed to be with his grandmother.

“I should go to the hospital,” he mumbled drowsily, though he couldn’t find it in himself to move. His limbs were heavy and uncooperative and his head felt stuffed with wet cotton.

Sighing, Kibum pulled back, looking over Jonghyun's face with worry etched deep in his features. He brushed away a few tears with his thumbs and Jonghyun managed a miniscule smile at him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Kibum asked. “I’d rather not leave you alone. I can call our boss and say I have an emergency or something.”

Jonghyun shook his head.

“No, it’s okay,” he sniffled. “I already called yesterday to take a week off, so you’re the only one with experience there. You can’t leave Sandeul to himself.”

Kibum grimaced but sighed again. He untangled himself from Jonghyun gently and sat up, pulling his hands through his hair.

“If there’s anything,” he said roughly, “anything at all, you call me. That’s an order.”

Jonghyun smiled again and sat up as well, although his movements were much heavier than Kibum's had been.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I will.”

After running his fingers through Jonghyun's hair, Kibum stood, stretching with a small grimace.

“My back’s gonna bother me the rest of the day,” he grumbled but there was no heat behind the words.

Jonghyun followed him to the door, promising again and again he would call later that evening so Kibum would know he wasn’t wallowing in sadness forever. They shared a long, tight hug and then Kibum was gone. Jonghyun let out a deep breath after closing the door, leaning his forehead against it and swallowing the lump growing in his throat again.

He’d never experienced a broken heart before. There was a first time for everything, he guessed. He just wished it wouldn’t hurt so much he could barely concentrate on anything else. He had his grandmother to think of.

Clearing his throat and wiping at his eyes to brush away the stray tears, which had escaped, he took a few deep breaths, forced the tears down and packed a bag for the hospital. He’d stay there for the rest of the week and try to concentrate on his grandmother instead of the mess that was his emotions.

A fleeting spike of worry went through Jonghyun when he remembered Minho would still be at the hospital everyday. But then he realised Minho most likely didn’t know where his grandmother was, thus he wouldn’t know where Jonghyun was. If he even cared, that was. He’d never asked and Jonghyun had never told him. He hadn’t wanted to burden Minho when he was so stressed about the situation with Taemin.

Also, Jonghyun kind of knew when Minho tended to arrive at the hospital, which meant he could just hide in his grandmother’s room during that time. So, it really was very unlikely he would run into Minho, especially since Minho didn’t even want him in the first place and had told him to stay away. It wasn’t as though he would go looking for Jonghyun.

Still, he was on high alert once he arrived at the hospital, glancing around nervously, his heart dropping and his breath catching in his throat every time he caught sight of someone resembling Minho's height or appearance. He decided to take the stairs, not wanting to be caught while waiting for the elevator on the off chance Minho actually was at the hospital at the moment.

When he reached the third floor, he hesitated, coming to a stop and staring at the metal door with a large, painted white ‘3’ on it. He swallowed a few times, gripped the strap of his backpack harder and took a deep breath to steel himself before pushing the door open and entering the ICU.

It was quiet. As it usually was whenever he came down there to get his hot cocoa. He hid behind a corner to search the ward for any signs of Minho or Jinki. Finding it completely empty, except for the few nurses making their rounds, he took another breath and crept over to the door to Taemin's room. He peeked inside, relieved upon discovering it empty and quickly snuck inside.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that met Jonghyun in the room and he stood frozen for a moment, staring at the still shape on the bed. Then he gently placed his bag on the floor and took the few steps he needed to stand beside the bed.

Taemin seemed even paler than the first time Jonghyun had seen him. His hair was dull and lacklustre, his cheeks were a little hollow, his skin looked dry and he was so skinny Jonghyun worried he would die of starvation if not of the coma.

“Hi Taemin,” he greeted, barely above a hoarse whisper. “I’m Jonghyun. We met once before, but I don’t think you remember. I’m not that memorable when there are a lot of good-looking nurses and doctors coming in and out of your room, right?”

Jonghyun tried to make a small joke, but it fell flat and he grimaced at himself; sinking into the chair he’d seen Minho in several times. He tried not to think about it and scooted a little closer to the bed.

“You don’t really know me,” he continued. “But I know Minho and he’s told me a little about you.” He swallowed. “He loves you a lot, you know? And this is killing him.”

He fiddled with a piece of the sheet sticking out of the bed.

“I tried to help him,” he whispered. “He was so sad and I just wanted him to smile again. I realise now that it won’t happen unless you come back and I’m sorry if you feel I tried to take your place. I promise you, that was never my intention, though I did fall in love with Minho.”

Jonghyun laughed a little. It was sad and unenergetic.

“But don’t worry,” he assured. “He’s still in love with you. And I don’t really know anything about before your coma, but I’ve spoken to Jinki and it seemed you weren’t gonna reject Minho if he confessed to you, so maybe you should wake up so you two can be happy?”

A tear fell onto Jonghyun's knee, staining his jeans and he blinked, dislodging a few more, which rained down onto his lap.

“Oh,” he said, his breath catching on a quiet sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s up with me.” He pulled a hand across his cheeks. “I meant everything I said. Don’t mind me, I’m just not in control of my emotions right now.”

A sob broke through and he bent forward, burying his face in his hands and leaning his elbows on his knees.

“I’m s-sorry,” he sobbed. “I r-really am.”

It took a few seconds for him to pull himself together long enough to at least say goodbye and leave. But just as he was about to open his mouth he saw Taemin's fingers twitch and his breath caught in his throat.

“Taemin?” he gasped and leaned forward.

The fingers twitched again and Jonghyun shot from the chair, lunging at the call button for the nurse station. He didn’t have to wait long until a nurse hurried into the room, eyes zeroing in on him as he wiped the last of his tears away, before moving over to Taemin.

“You called?” she said. “Did something happen?”

Jonghyun pointed at Taemin's hand.

“He moved,” he said breathlessly. “His fingers twitched and when I called his name they twitched again!”

The nurse frowned and approached the monitors by Taemin's bed.

“Are you certain?” she asked. “His brain activity hasn’t changed nor has his heart rate.”

“I’m sure!” Jonghyun insisted. “Please, just do a check-up. It can’t–”

He broke off as Taemin's entire hand moved a little.

“He moved again!” he nearly yelled. “His hand moved!”

The nurse, who had caught the movement as well as seen the jump of activity on the monitors, quickly pulled out her pager and pressed a few buttons.

Soon, the room was filled with doctors and nurses doing all kinds of check-ups and jotting down all kinds of notes and diagnoses. Jonghyun moved back to a corner, watching them nervously, hoping all the commotion meant Taemin was coming back.

“It’s amazing,” he heard one of the doctors murmur to another. “His brain activity practically jumped back to normal. How did this happen?”

“We need to call his family,” another doctor said. “He might wake up very soon.”

Jonghyun quietly backed further away, picked up his bag and slipped out the room, smiling softly to himself. Things would work out for Minho, it seemed. And though it hurt he couldn’t be a part of Minho's world anymore, he was still happy for him. Happy for Taemin as well, because he would finally wake up, which meant there were small miracles and wonders in the world.

He was glad he’d been able to see one of them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho had paced in front of the hotel for at least twenty minutes, too nervous to go in and too guilt-ridden to leave. The doorman had watched him the entire time, though he hadn’t bothered him. The only indication he was at least a little curious about Minho's apparent distress was the raised eyebrows when Minho finally stopped, took a deep, steadying breath and approached him. He gave Minho a small nod and a smile, as if to encourage him, and pulled the door open.

Minho's heart was hammering against his ribcage as he stepped inside the lobby, looking around for a blond head. The front desk was empty and the waiting area was deserted. Soft music flowed from a hidden speaker somewhere, accompanied by the faint murmur of voices coming from the dining hall. The rest of the place lay desolate.

Maybe Jonghyun wasn’t there after all.

Minho approached the front desk to ring the bell for service, his last hope, when he heard footsteps from down the hall to his right. He turned and came to an abrupt halt as his eyes landed on Kibum making his way back to his post at the front desk.

Kibum froze as well when he noticed Minho and they stared at each other for a silent moment. Then Kibum's face darkened and he strode over to him with angry intent clear on his face. Minho would have turned and left, had Kibum not been his best chance at finding Jonghyun at the moment.

He opened his mouth to ask him if Jonghyun had come into work for the evening or if there was any way to reach him at all when Kibum raised a fist and punched him square in the face. He was much stronger than he looked and Minho stumbled back a few steps, gasping in pain and clutching his nose.

“What the hell?!” he groaned, his voice muffled by his hand.

“You’re lucky I want to keep my job,” Kibum hissed, looking ready to punch him again. “Otherwise I’d be beating you to a pulp right now!”

Minho blinked a few times, his eyes a little unfocused.  So, Jonghyun had already told Kibum. Nothing was working out in Minho's favour, but then again, maybe that was what he deserved.

“How could you?! You broke his heart!” Kibum nearly yelled and Minho flinched, pain prickling at his own heart. “And after I  _told_  you to let him down gently before he fell even more in love with you!”

Pressing his lips together, Minho swallowed around the lump in his throat. Yeah, Kibum  _had_  told him not to bother with Jonghyun if he wasn’t serious that one time he had cornered him in the kitchen. But Minho hadn’t been able to stay away and this was the result. And he hated it. He’d do anything to take back what he had done.

He swallowed again, closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

“I know,” he murmured. “I just… is he here? Can I talk to him?”

Kibum pinned him with a scathing glare.

“You can’t.”

Minho's heart sank and he sighed. It was what he should have expected. He wouldn’t want to talk to him either.

“Did Jonghyun say he didn’t want to talk to me?” he wondered, like he wanted to make himself feel even worse. But if he knew Jonghyun really, absolutely didn’t want anything to do with him, he would give up.

“I haven’t asked, but I’m making that executive decision as his friend,” Kibum answered. “To keep dicks like you from hurting good hearted guys like him. Don’t you ever dare to even look in his direction and don’t think he ever wants to see you again. He may be nice, but even he’s got a limit, which you just overstepped by light-years.”

Minho closed his eyes again.

God, he’d made such a mess of things. Jonghyun  _was_  utterly and completely good hearted. There wasn’t a speck of ill will in him and Minho hadn’t valued it enough. He had been so preoccupied with wishing Taemin were awake he had lost something he would only find once in a lifetime.

Maybe he wasn’t worth ever seeing Jonghyun again. Maybe he would only hurt him again. That seemed to be the only thing he excelled at.

“Yeah,” he admitted hoarsely to a waiting Kibum. “Maybe that’s for the better.”

A small dent appeared between Kibum's eyebrows and he narrowed his eyes. Minho knew he didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth, so he simply gave him a small nod, turned and left.

He walked home slowly, all adrenaline gone. He considered trying the hospital again, but then he remembered what Kibum had said and his courage ran out of him.

“There you are!” Jinki exclaimed when Minho opened the door to the apartment. “You need to buy a new phone!”

Minho frowned at him. He was bouncing in his place, shoes on and jacket in hand, looking ready to bolt out the door.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” he mumbled tiredly and began to untie his shoes. He just wanted to go to bed and never wake up.

“Keep your shoes on, we’re going to the hospital,” Jinki ordered and opened the door again. “Taemin moved!”

Minho's hear skipped a beat and he whipped around to stare wide-eyed at him.

“What?” he breathed.

Jinki's smile was brilliant.

“Yeah,” he said. “Your parents are already on their way. I waited for you since your phone broke.” He grabbed Minho's arm and tugged. “Come on!”

Minho let himself be dragged to the garage and pushed into the passenger seat in a daze. His stomach was full of nervous butterflies and he felt lighter somehow. His nerves worsened as they parked in the garage of the hospital. Partly because of Taemin, but mostly because of the chance he might catch Jonghyun. He couldn’t stop himself from searching the halls for him, even though he was certain he wouldn’t be anywhere near the ground floor or the third.

It still didn’t stop the disappointment at not finding him anywhere and he sighed.

Jinki threw him a glance, as if he knew what he was thinking, and gave his shoulder a pat before leading the way to Taemin's room.

There were people everywhere. Minho felt disoriented and confused just by looking at them. His parents stood off to a corner and Jinki and he joined them. His mom pulled him into a tight hug, smiling and crying at the same time and his father was blinking furiously.

“Taemin, can you hear us?” a doctor asked.

There was no response and Minho's heart sank, then it lodged itself in his throat when the doctor spoke again.

“Responsive, though unable to speak,” he told a nurse, who took diligent notes. “He’s using his hand to communicate with small movements as well as blinking.”

Minho, his parents and Jinki looked at each other with wide eyes, smiles spreading on their lips.

“He’s awake,” his mother whispered.

“Yeah,” Minho breathed and hugged her again.

A few more minutes passed as the doctors ran more tests. Then, finally, they began filing out of the room, leaving the head doctor to speak with them. He came up to them with a genuine smile on his lips.

“It seems he is well on his way to recovery,” the doctor said. “It may take a few days for him to open his eyes fully and speak. He will not be awake except for a few minutes at a time and he might be very confused, so try not to overwhelm him if he is awake when you visit.”

They all nodded.

“And though it is too early to tell, we think he will be able to fully recover with physical therapy as well as psychological.” The doctor smiled again. “But that is something we will discuss further once he has regained full consciousness. For now, he just needs peace to recover.”

Minho's father stepped forward and grasped the doctor’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said in a gruff, sincere voice.

The doctor nodded and swiftly left the room. They were left staring at Taemin for a moment, no one quite daring to move closer, as if it was all a dream and even the smallest move would make it all go away.

Then Minho gathered his courage and slowly approached the bed, staring down at Taemin.

He looked like he had done last time he saw him and for a moment it scared him. But then Taemin's eyelids fluttered, not able to open completely, though the colour of his irises was visible for a few seconds. Minho drew in a sharp breath and grabbed Taemin's hand.

“What happened?” his mother asked, barely above a whisper.

Minho glanced over his shoulder with a faint smile.

“He opened his eyes a little,” he murmured.

His mother let out a watery laugh and hurried over, grabbing Taemin's other hand. She was followed by his father and Jinki, who positioned themselves at the foot of the bed.

“Taemin,” his mother said softly and stroked his hair. “Everything’s fine. We will wait for you, so don’t worry.”

Minho smiled at her when she looked up at him, happy tears shining in her eyes.

“We’ve missed you, buddy,” his father added and patted Taemin's leg.

Both Minho and his mother let out a surprised sound when Taemin's fingers tightened around theirs weakly. Then his mother laughed joyously.

“Yes, we’re here, sweetie,” she said.

The smile on Minho's lips widened and he felt lighter again. Happiness bubbled up in him, warming his insides and leaving tingles in his nerves.

His heart was heavy, however. Because he suddenly realised he couldn’t share this with Jonghyun – this happiness and joy. He was sure Jonghyun would have been happy as well and he really would have liked to see the smile on his face when he delivered the news. He had no doubt it would have been beautiful and shining and absolutely wonderful.

That was something he had taken away from himself, though, and now he had to live with knowing Jonghyun probably would never smile for him again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A soft knock on the door jostled Jonghyun out of his light sleep. He stretched, his back stiff from sleeping in the chair by his grandmother’s bed, and let out a yawn just as nurse Lee entered.

“Hi, Jonghyun,” she greeted him with a small smile.

“Hey,” he murmured sleepily.

She walked up to him and gave his hair an affectionate ruffle.

“I found something of yours,” she said and pulled his phone out of her pocket, handing it to him. “It was on your bed.”

“Oh,” Jonghyun breathed and took the phone. “Thank you so much. I was actually thinking of buying a new phone today. Guess I don’t have to.”

Nurse Lee laughed and went over to look at the machines they had hooked up to his grandmother yesterday evening since she had worsened yet again once night had fallen. From what Jonghyun could tell, her heartbeat was steady. But then again, he didn’t know how frequent the beats should be either.

Taking some notes on her clipboard, nurse Lee turned to the IV and inspected the dosage control.

“Is everything oaky?” Jonghyun asked, his voice soft and nervous.

She looked over her shoulder at him with a reassuring smile.

“Yes,” she answered. “It’s just a routine check-up.”

Swallowing harshly, he nodded and grimaced, his neck sore from the angle his head had hung in while he slept. Nurse Lee frowned at him.

“You really should sleep in the bed,” she advised. “Your body won’t get sufficient rest otherwise.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jonghyun mumbled.

She gave him an unamused look, but turned her attention back to the IV. He watched her work in silence, glancing at his grandmother, who was still peacefully sleeping, from time to time.

“There was something else I wanted to tell you,” nurse Lee said once she was done with the check-up and stood beside him again. Her face scrunched up as she thought. “But I can’t remember. There was so much happening yesterday.”

Jonghyun smiled weakly.

“Well, I have nowhere else to be at the moment,” he joked. “So you could always come tell me when you do remember. Are you perhaps getting old, nurse Lee?”

She swatted at his shoulder, but smiled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“Come eat lunch with me later if you want,” she said. “I get my break at one.”

Jonghyun nodded and she ruffled his hair again before she left.

He let out a heavy sigh when the door closed behind her and looked down at his phone. He tried to wake it up, but it remained black. Sighing again, he stood up and rummaged through his bag for the charger. He always had one with him because of the many nights he spent at the hospital, and he hadn’t taken it out of the bag yet after he’d lost his phone.

It took a few seconds for it to charge enough to start up again, but when it did it vibrated constantly with unread messages and missed calls. He grimaced at it, picked it up and scrolled through his missed calls first.

Most of them were from his parents, a few from Kibum and one from Jinki. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Jinki's name and he checked the date and time. It had been just one and a half hour after his falling out with Minho. Had Jinki known? Had he called to ask for Jonghyun's point of view?

He decided not to dwell on it. He needed to forget about Minho, and to do that he also had to forget Jinki. For a little while at least. It felt unfair, as Jinki was a good friend, but he couldn’t deal with being around someone so close to Minho at the moment.

He checked his messages next. Again, most were from his parents and Kibum, but there was a number he didn’t recognise as well and he frowned. He’d received it just thirty minutes ago and he opened it curiously, wondering who it could be and what they wanted.

His breath caught in his throat as he quickly scanned the – rather lengthy – text and his eyes fell to the bottom, where it had been signed with a name.

_Taemin's mother, Park Jieun_

He read the text again, more thoroughly this time.

 _Hello Jonghyun,_  
 _I thought about what you said and I really would like to know how Taemin’s recovery is coming along. It’s been a few days since we met, and I hope he has gotten better. I won’t pretend I’m entitled to everything, or even anything, regarding Taemin, as I gave up that right when I gave him up for adoption to the Chois, though he’s been on my mind ever since. Please just tell me if he will live._  
Sincerely,  
Taemin's mother, Park Jieun

Jonghyun read and re-read the text, his lips curling into an unconscious smile and his chest warming. He quickly tapped the box to type a reply. He told her how, for a moment, there had been little hope of him ever recovering but that just yesterday afternoon he’d regained consciousness somewhat and was on his way to recovery.

“Jonghyun,” came a raspy whisper and his head snapped up to look at his grandmother. “When did you arrive?”

He smiled and pressed send before pocketing his phone and taking a seat in the chair by her bed again.

“Yesterday afternoon,” he answered. “You’ve been sleeping for nearly eighteen hours.”

He left out the part where her heart had stopped for a second in her sleep and all hell broke loose, that she had been sleeping so long because of the new medicine they had given her after the CPR. He’d never been so scared in his life, but he decided he wouldn’t let her know any of it and continue as if nothing was wrong. After all, if she believed she would be okay, then it would help her recover faster, right?

His grandmother frowned at the new machines in the room but she didn’t say anything.

“Do you want to watch TV?” Jonghyun asked. “I’ve got the entire day off.”

A sceptic look came his way. He ignored it in favour of reaching for the remote and turning the TV on, settling on some documentary about bees.

Jonghyun could barely watch it, keeping an eye on his grandmother the entire time. She had raised half of her bed so she was sitting, her eyes half lidded but focused on the screen.

He had to swallow several times so he wouldn’t just outright start bawling. She looked so frail and tired and he had no way of helping her. Helplessness carved out his chest and left an empty cage. He couldn’t feel his broken heart anymore. He couldn’t feel anything actually, numb with fear and desperation.

The entire day was spent in silence, his grandmother too tired to really do anything and Jonghyun had given up on trying to act like everything was fine after he had received a reprimand for lying to her. He still didn’t tell her anything about how he was feeling. She seemed to understand how close to tears he had been the entire day and didn’t probe.

Instead they sat holding hands, Jonghyun's thumb rubbing gentle circles into her dry skin, and watched the sky outside change colour from clear blue to orange, pink and yellow, to deep blue sparkled with twinkling stars.

His grandmother had lowered the bed some time ago and dozed off every now and then. Jonghyun thought she had fallen asleep at last, so it surprised him when she finally spoke.

“I know I have little time left,” she said softly and Jonghyun pressed his lips together to keep from protesting or arguing or just outright screaming. “But I’ve lived my life, Jonghyun. I have no regrets; so don’t be sad to see me go. It won’t do you any good.”

He had to swallow a few times before answering her.

“But I’ll miss you,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears. “Mom will miss you.”

His grandmother smiled weakly.

“Of course you will,” she answered. “But life goes on and I’ll be a memory you always keep with you. Nothing lasts longer than memories, not even life itself.”

Jonghyun managed a wobbly smile at her.

“You’re so poetic,” he laughed and sniffled at the same time.

Her smile widened and she pulled at his hand gently. Jonghyun got the message and climbed onto the bed, laid down beside her and let himself be enveloped in her arms. She kissed the top of his head, then leaned her cheek on it.

“I love you very much, child,” she said. “And I know you have a great life ahead of you, for you are kind and just.”

He didn’t answer her, because those personality traits were exactly what had landed him with a broken heart. But he didn’t want to dampen her mood, so he snuggled closer to her and hugged back.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

Within seconds, they were asleep and Jonghyun felt a strange, calm serenity. It was weird, as it was such a juxtaposition to the inner turmoil he had experienced the entire day.

A loud, monotone beep woke him up the next morning and the world tilted on its axis as the room filled with doctors and nurses, pulling Jonghyun off the bed and swarming around his grandmother.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho paused outside Taemin's room, nervous. He was suddenly afraid of what he would find on the other side. What if Taemin had slipped back into a coma?

He scoffed at himself and determinedly pushed the door open. If that were the case, the hospital would have called.

Taemin's eyes were open when he entered and Minho faltered a little as he approached the bed. He didn’t seem aware of his presence, his eyes trained on the ceiling, unfocused and far away. Minho cautiously continued toward his destination and sat on the chair gingerly, keeping a close eye on Taemin's face for any sign of recognition. There was none and he sighed.

“Hi Taemin,” he greeted softly.

A jolt went through Taemin's body and his eyes found Minho, confused and disoriented. Minho met his gaze steadily, trying to be an anchor to the real world for him. Taemin stared and stared and stared, barely blinking, and he seemed no less confused than he had before. Minho took the opportunity to study him, checking for any signs he might be fully comprehensible soon or if he was close to another coma.

A little colour had returned to Taemin’s face, although he was still extremely thin as he couldn’t eat proper food yet and had been skinny to begin with. His eyes were still the same intelligent, clear brown they had always been, but it was a little muted. And there was something else about them Minho couldn’t put his finger on. It itched insistently at the back of his mind and he tried desperately to scratch it, but he couldn’t find the right spot – or in this case, thought – to make it go away.

“Well, it feels weird talking to you now when I know you’re awake but unsure if you understand me,” he admitted with a small smile. “I just came to say a quick hello and check this wasn’t just all a dream. My work starts soon, but I’ll be back this afternoon so don’t worry. I think mom and dad will be here too by then, and maybe Jinki-Hyung.”

Taemin's eyelids began to droop and Minho reached out to grab his hand. Taemin squeezed back weakly and Minho's smile widened.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmured. “Sleep well.”

He stayed for a few more minutes, watching as Taemin's breaths evened out and deepened. His hand slackened in Minho's grip and the beep of the heart monitor slowed.

After another moment of watching him sleep Minho stood up with a heavy sigh and headed back out the room. He glanced down the hallway and stopped as his eyes fell upon the coffee machine. Hesitating for a second, he dug into his back pocket and found some coins. He looked back up at the machine, clenched his hand around the coins, and walked over with purposeful steps.

His heart gave a painful beat when he glanced at the ugly green couch where he first had met Jonghyun and he turned his back on it, his jaw clenched against the twinge of guilt and sadness in his chest.

He popped some coins in the machine, pressed the ‘hot chocolate’ button and waited as it whirred to life and began pouring the drink into a paper cup. Once it was done he carefully took it, almost reverent. He stared down at the contents for a moment, watching the milk swirl around the dark chocolate colour.

It hit him like a truck then.

Taemin's eyes had been the wrong colour.

Minho let out a strangled sound and sat down on the couch.

The colour Minho had looked for, the colour, which had given him comfort, was the deep brown, chocolate irises Jonghyun had. Not the clear, sharp eyes of Taemin. He took a few deep breaths, his eyes wide, and he stared at the liquid in astonishment.

Then he shot to his feet again and, abandoning the drink on the floor, he ran to the stairs, ignoring the disapproving looks from nurses and doctors. He prayed to every deity he knew that Jonghyun was at the hospital. He needed him. There hadn’t been anything he had ever needed more. Not even Taemin, he realised. Because as much as he had been an idiot and jerk, he had finally realised Jonghyun was it. The one.

He rounded the corner to the fifth floor and skidded to a stop, his heart going cold and dropping to his feet.

Jonghyun was crying.

He was sobbing loud enough for it to reach Minho, desperately clutching onto Kibum, who had his arms around him in a tight embrace, murmuring something in his ear. The nurse Minho had met last time he’d been to the fifth floor approached them, looking concerned. She said something Minho couldn’t hear which had Jonghyun hiccupping and burying his face deeper into Kibum's shoulder and Kibum shook his head, his face grim. She gave a small nod and left in Minho's direction, which in turn made Kibum's eyes fall on him.

His already dark expression darkened further and his glare was scathing. Minho pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. He couldn’t approach them. Something bad had clearly happened and, judging by last time, Kibum would be even less inclined to let him near Jonghyun now when he was clearly in deep grief.

Taking another deep breath, he forced himself to turn and walk away, though every cell in his body screamed at him to turn back and pull Jonghyun into his arms, hold him close and safe and warm the way he himself had been held by him. It physically hurt he couldn’t be with him at the moment and he vowed to himself that he would salvage whatever he could of his relationship with Jonghyun, just so he could protect him when he needed it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The hospital loomed over Jonghyun, cold and intimidating even in the warm light of the afternoon sun. The sight of the building no longer gave him hope that everything would be fine.

It had been four days since he last set foot in there. His grandmother had been taken to the morgue in wait for his parents to come. Jonghyun had stayed at home, since he had taken out a week’s vacation from work, sleeping and watching his grandmother’s favourite programs on TV, talking to his mother over the phone several hours a day.

But today was the day his grandmother would be moved from the hospital to the funeral home in preparation for the funeral. His parents would soon arrive at the hospital to sign a few papers and settle things.

He did feel a little better today. His grandmother’s departure didn’t weigh as heavily on his chest anymore and he’d had a few days to heal. Since he knew she had been ready to go, the process had been easier, though the first few hours had been difficult and heavy.

Arriving at the fifth floor felt weird when he had no place, no room, to go to except to the nurse station. He smiled at nurse Lee, who came around the desk and pulled him into a warm hug.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded and hugged her back.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

She pulled back, resting her hands on his shoulders and studied his face for a moment, chewing her lip in thought.

“I was going to call you…” she hesitated. “Do you still want to know about the coma patient?”

Jonghyun's eyes widened and he nodded eagerly. He had promised he would give more information to Taemin's mother about his process, though he also wanted to know himself how Taemin's recovery was going.

“Yes, of course!” he said. “Is he all right? He didn’t go back into a coma, did he?”

Nurse Lee smiled and shook her head.

“No, he didn’t. Actually he has improved greatly, he woke up cognizant early this morning, speaking and moving to the best of his abilities.”

Jonghyun gaped at her.

“Really?” he breathed. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “It really is amazing.”

“Can… I visit him?” Jonghyun wondered uncertainly.

Her eyes softened and she nodded.

“We haven’t been able to reach his next of kin yet and I do believe he feels a little lonely and scared, though he tries to hide it,” she said. “And you’re about the best person I know. I trust you can give him some peace of mind.”

Blushing, Jonghyun looked down at the floor, wrinkling his nose.

“Well… it’s not always a good thing,” he mumbled.

“Nonsense,” nurse Lee admonished. She patted his cheek and pushed him towards the elevators. “Go. He’s been moved to the fourth floor, room 493. I’ll call when your parents arrive.”

Jonghyun smiled softly at her and gave a small wave before making his way down to the fourth floor. Nerves coiled in his stomach and he wondered if it were such a great idea to visit Taemin after all. The guy didn’t know him. He might be even more frightened and confused if Jonghyun just showed up suddenly.

He paused just outside the elevators on the fourth floor, his hands trembling with nervousness. Instinct told him to turn and go back. He shouldn’t be doing this. The last time he got involved in something that wasn’t his business it ended poorly.

But then again, he had promised Taemin's mother to check on him when he fully woke up and tell her if he would really be all right. And he also wanted to make sure of his intentions towards Minho. Because he would be damned if Minho had gone through everything and coming out of it almost unscathed, only to continue being sad.

Steeling himself, he quickly made his way to Taemin's room before he could change his mind, stopping outside with a wildly hammering heart. He took a deep breath and, after another moment of hesitation, pushed the door open, finding the young man he had only seen lying in bed like a pale ghost sitting up, the back of the bed raised, eyes shining as he was wheezing a laugh at something on the TV.

Jonghyun cleared his throat awkwardly and Taemin looked over, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, though it had a wary undertone.

“Hello?” he greeted questioningly after quickly pressing the mute button, his voice hoarse and cracking.

“Uh, hi.”

Jonghyun smiled weakly and went closer, stopping by the chair beside the bed. The one he imagined Minho now usually occupied. He took another shaky breath and his chest tightened. Taemin was still studying him with interest.

“Umm… you don’t know me, but I’ve visited you before. I was actually here when you woke up.”

Taemin's eyes widened.

“I’m Jonghyun, I’m… I know Minho,” he explained to Taemin’s unasked question.

“Oh,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun nodded. “And well, I just wanted to tell you…” his voice died out, his chest hurting and a lump forming in his throat.

“Yes?” Taemin asked, looking at him a bit worriedly.

“Uh, well, that… Minho really had a hard time without you,” he mumbled and Taemin looked like he was close to tears. “He loves you a lot and he has been here in almost all his free time."

“I know,” Taemin sighed and Jonghyun looked at him incredulously. He smiled at Jonghyun's weirded-out expression. “That he loves me a lot, I mean."

“Oh.”

“I also know he was going to confess,” he admitted. “And I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure what I wanted.”

Jonghyun frowned.

“Why?”

“The feelings are… well,  _were_  there on both our parts, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in a relationship,” Taemin said carefully, choosing his words. “I was waiting for him to confess before forcing myself to make a decision.”

Jonghyun swallowed harshly.

“You’ll accept when he confesses then?” he asked.

“ _If_ he confesses,” Taemin corrected, a sudden amused glint in his eyes. He cocked his head to the side, appraising him. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

Jonghyun blushed.

“I-I… value him as a friend and don’t want him to get hurt,” he quickly explained.

Taemin raised his eyebrows, but if he thought it was weird he didn’t comment on it.

“You seem like a nice person,” he said instead. “You should come more often now that I’m not in a coma! I want to be your friend too!”

Jonghyun could feel his lips tug up in a smile as well and he suddenly understood why Minho loved this person so much.

“I’ll try,” Jonghyun said, not wanting to make any promises since he didn’t know if he would be able to handle running into Minho. “I know a few nurses from the time my nan was here, so I might come by.”

“So that’s how you met Minho?” Taemin smiled understandingly.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun chuckled, ignoring the twinge in his chest as he remembered their first meeting. It felt like such a long time ago. “He was sitting on a couch looking all sulky and I tried to lighten his expression up a bit with hot cocoa.”

Taemin eyes grew wide.

“Did he drink it?”

“Yeah…” he frowned. “He’s been drinking it with me ever since… why?”

Taemin stared at him for a moment, before bursting out into incredulous, hoarse laughter.

“He hates hot chocolate!” he chortled. “Says it’s gonna rot his teeth! He  _always_  drinks coffee! And black at that!”

Jonghyun gaped at him.

“He does?!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “He never told me!”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to be rude,” Taemin chuckled.

They grinned at each other, a sense of amicability settling over them. Then Jonghyun threw a glance at the clock, noticing it was close to the time Minho usually came around the hospital. His heart skipped a beat and he felt skittish, not wanting to bump into him.

“Hey, could I ask you a favour?” Taemin suddenly said and Jonghyun looked back to him.

He hesitated, glancing at the clock again. Then he sighed.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered. “What is it?”

“I’d actually really like to try that hot cocoa,” Taemin wrinkled his nose apologetically. “It must be amazing if Minho-Hyung drank it willingly. Could you bring me some?”

Jonghyun nodded and stood up. If he was quick about it, he could avoid bumping into Minho.

“Thank you so much!” Taemin grinned and Jonghyun smiled back at him.

“Don’t mention it,” he answered, trying not to run out the door and letting on he was in a hurry to get away.

A few minutes later he really wished he could mind his own business. Just for once.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho thought he would pass out when he got the message. He dropped everything he was holding immediately and sprinted from his office to the garage and his car, then drove like a maniac to the hospital. He stumbled into the new room they had moved Taemin to, breath heavy and heart pounding, and found Taemin sitting up in bed, a concentrated dent in his forehead as he tried to figure out the remote control to his bed.

“Taemin,” Minho breathed incredulously and he looked up at him, his face splitting into a happy smile.

“Hey Hyung!” he said cheerfully, though scratchily, just like it had been yesterday they last saw each other.

Well, technically, they had, but Taemin hadn’t been completely conscious of his surroundings, so Minho didn’t count that.

Tears welled up in his eyes and a few escaped as he made a strangled noise in his throat. Taemin’s smile dimmed and he patted the mattress, scooting over with great effort and motioning for Minho to sit down. He quickly obliged, his eyes never leaving Taemin's face.

“Hey,” Minho said after a moment of silent staring, trying to smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Taemin answered with a weak laugh and added: “It’s afternoon though.”

Minho's smile trembled and he put a hand to his cheek, searching his face worriedly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Taemin grimaced faintly, but smiled.

“A bit weird and disoriented, but other than a little pain when I move, like I always have.” He grabbed Minho's hand on his cheek and squeezed it lightly, holding it with both of his in his lap. “How are you?”

Minho swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“I’m great,” he said shakily. “Now that you’re finally awake.”

His smile faltered and tears began rolling down his cheeks. Taemin bit his lip, tears gathering in his eyes as well. Then he pulled Minho into a tight hug, mindful of his casted arm and healing ribs and lungs.

“God, I’m so sorry Hyung,” he whispered.

“It’s not your fault, Minnie,” he murmured back, stroking his hair gently.

They sat quietly for a while, tears running silently, releasing all the fear and tension and happiness they had in their hearts. They didn’t break apart until Taemin sniffled out a small laugh.

“Since when did you start liking hot chocolate?” he asked.

Minho frowned at him, drying his cheeks.

“What?” he asked hoarsely.

Taemin's smile was wide and bright.

“I met your friend.”

Minho stared at him for a puzzled moment before his heart skipped a beat and decided to lodge itself in his throat.

“Jonghyun?” he choked out, his chest exploding with painful guilt.

Taemin nodded, watching Minho's reaction with worried amusement.

“What–,” Minho croaked and paused to clear his throat. “What did he say?”

“Oh, just…” he shrugged. “Told me how you had been and that I should…” his voice died out and he stared at Minho for a moment, smiling the slightest. “He’s a really nice guy. Handsome, too.”

Minho blushed.

“What?” he said again.

Taemin put a pale hand to his left cheek, searching his face.

“You love him back,” he stated softly and Minho started in surprise.

“What? Wait,” he struggled. “I don’t understand. I–”

“I knew you were going to confess,” Taemin explained.

Minho stared at him incredulously, opening and closing his mouth, no words coming out.

“But I wasn’t sure if what we felt was real and if I wanted a relationship, so I waited for you to say it first to actually think about it,” he continued. “And then the accident happened and you met Jonghyun.”

“B-but I–,” Minho managed to stammer out, completely dumbfounded that Taemin had already managed to grasp the situation. He had only gained full consciousness that morning for god’s sake!

“It’s okay,” Taemin smiled. “Jonghyun told me I should consider accepting your feelings, but I think the one who needs to accept them is him.” He patted Minho's cheek gently. “Right?”

Minho just blinked at him, unsure of what to say or do. Jonghyun had come here to tell Taemin to accept his love? Why would he do that?

His heart ached once he realised just how much Jonghyun had come to love him, to the extent he would rather Minho be happy than keep him away from his love rival. He hadn’t even been mean or spiteful towards Taemin it seemed, knowing he was the one he had unknowingly been competing with. Jonghyun really must be his guardian angel.

And here Minho was, jerk of the century.

Taemin chuckled at his dumbfounded expression and leaned in, giving him a soft, short kiss.

“I always wanted to try, but this will likely be the only time,” he said and Minho felt shocked beyond comparison. Then Taemin grinned. “You know, Hyung, Jonghyun mentioned something about hot cocoa.”

Minho blinked before clearing his throat and nodding.

“Uh… yeah,” he said, voice rough with utter confusion.

“I want to try some,” Taemin continued. “Would you mind getting it for me while you’re here?”

Minho stared at him for a bewildered moment. Then he stood up.

“Yeah… yes, of course,” he stuttered, unsure what the slow smile spreading on Taemin's lips meant. “I’ll be right back.”

He left the room, still bewildered, and made his way down to the third floor. It felt weird being on another floor, but if it meant things were going well, he wouldn’t complain.

He exited the elevator and rounded the corner only to come to an abrupt halt, his heart jumping out his chest and his breath catching in his throat.

Jonghyun was standing just in front of the machine, staring at it thoughtfully, a paper cup in his hand. Minho barely remembered to throw a glance around to look for Kibum before his body acted on its own and his feet took a few quick steps forward, as if he was being pulled in by gravity.

“Jonghyun!” he called before he could talk himself out of it.

Jonghyun turned around, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly masked his face with a fake smile and Minho's heart ached. The smile was close lipped and tight, not the wide, warm one he’d had before.

“Hi,” he said cautiously. “Are you on your way to Taemin's room?”

The lump that lodged itself in Minho's throat made it hard to speak and he could only nod, staring at him mutely. His heart was beating faster than it ever had and he wondered if Jonghyun could hear it.

He didn’t know where to begin. What was he supposed to say to the person he had hurt so much but who still loved him enough to do whatever he could to ensure his happiness?

After a few moments of continued silence, Jonghyun's fake smile widened.

“Well, since you’re going to his room, would you mind giving him this?” he said, shoving the paper cup into Minho's hands. Their fingers brushed and small sparks buzzed up Minho’s arms. “He wanted to have some hot cocoa.”

Jonghyun turned around without waiting for either answer or reaction and began walking away, shoulders tense and hands clenched.

Minho’s body acted on its own again. The hot chocolate splashed over the floor and his shoes as his hand shot out to grab Jonghyun’s arm, turning him back around, and he raised his chin with his other hand to connect their lips.

Jonghyun stilled for a moment before responding, his hands coming up to rest lightly, hesitantly, on Minho's shoulders, as if he was afraid Minho would disappear if he put too much pressure into his touch. It was enough to make Minho's heart swell with affection and joy he hadn’t felt in days, not even when Taemin had woken up.

He pulled back after a moment that seemed entirely too short, watching Jonghyun’s reaction tentatively.

Jonghyun opened his eyes slowly and met Minho's gaze, looking beyond bewildered and lost.

“What?” he breathed, his lips red from the kiss and his cheeks pink.

Minho bit his lip hesitantly, before deciding to just be straightforward and get it out.

“I need you,” he murmured and Jonghyun looked more puzzled than ever, a small frown appearing on his forehead.

“No, you don’t,” he countered. “You need Taemin.”

Minho shook his head.

“I thought I did.” He cupped Jonghyun's cheek and stepped closer. “But then you came along and I just… you’re the one.”

Jonghyun stared at him as if he couldn’t believe his ears, which must have been his exact thoughts because he asked:

“Is this a dream? Or did I just die without knowing?”

Minho couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped him.

“No, this is real,” he assured.

“B-but… I don’t… I’m confused.”

“I can understand that.” Minho sighed. “I’ve been a complete jerk towards you. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how I will ever make it up to you.”

Jonghyun stared at him, his eyes wide, expression stunned.

“You  _have_  been an exemplary jerk,” he agreed slowly after a few seconds that seemed to stretch out in eternities.

Minho's heart fell a little. He bit his lip again; suddenly feeling scared and exposed. Then Jonghyun smiled, and it was so wide and bright his whole face seemed to shine.

“Luckily for you, I don’t hold grudges,” he murmured.

Minho didn’t have any time to react before there were fingers weaving into his hair and pulling him down into a kiss so affectionate he thought he was going to melt. He pulled Jonghyun fully into his arms, hugging him as close as he could and feeling, just like he had last time, how well he fit there, in his embrace, with him, filling him with warmth much like the hot chocolate Jonghyun loved so much.

Jonghyun chuckled softly and Minho smiled against his lips, wanting to stay that way forever. He relished in the feeling of being back in their little bubble. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed it until now.

Unfortunately, they were in a public place, which meant they were very soon interrupted. By Taemin, no less, who apparently had terrorized the nurses into letting him out of bed and was now rolling through the corridor in a wheelchair, pushed around by nervous looking nurse.

“Hyung, you’re ruining my innocence,” he whined in feign horror after having cleared his throat behind them to get their attention. The nurse stared at them with wide eyes before mumbling something about rounds and disappearing, her cheeks red.

Minho narrowed his eyes at Taemin. The little shit had planned this, he suddenly realised.

“You never were innocent,” he growled playfully, a small smile on his lips, and Taemin began laughing.

Jonghyun laughed with him and Minho's arms tightened around him with a feeling so inexplicable he wanted to burst. He really wanted to tell Jonghyun how much he loved him, how much his presence filled him with happiness and peace. But he couldn’t find the words so instead he simply pulled him into another kiss, ignoring Taemin's mock complaints.

Jonghyun looked as stunned as he had the first time, but this time by the fierceness of the kiss more than anything. Minho caressed his cheek with the back of one hand before turning to Taemin.

“Okay, let’s get you back to bed,” he ordered.

“But I’ve been in bed for so long!” Taemin protested. “It gets boring!”

Minho rolled his eyes, grabbed the handles of Taemin's wheelchair and began pushing him towards the elevators. He paused, though and looked over his shoulder at an amused but cautious Jonghyun. He reached out and grabbed Jonghyun's hand, lacing their fingers together while resolving to remove any hesitation and uncertainty in Jonghyun about his feelings for him.

But for now, he just wanted to hold Jonghyun's hand and keep him close.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The change in Jonghyun's expression was instant when he looked at his ringing phone and both Minho and Taemin exchanged a worried glance.

They were back in Taemin's room where they had practically forced Taemin into bed. At first, Minho had felt a little awkward and nervous having both Jonghyun and Taemin in the same room, but they acted as if they had been friends forever, which left him warm, smiley and tingly.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this good.

Now, worry began seeping into his stomach, like ice-cold liquid, and he immediately stood once Jonghyun did. It earned him a small smile from Jonghyun.

“I’m–,” Jonghyun's voice cracked faintly and he cleared his throat. “I need to leave. I have a few things I need to take care of.”

Minho's worry increased and Taemin frowned.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Will you come back later? I still didn’t get that hot cocoa.”

Taemin's words drew a small chuckle from Jonghyun and he nodded.

“I can probably be back in an hour or two,” he said with a soft smile. “And then I promise we’ll drink hot cocoa.”

Taemin grinned at him and Minho sighed. They were two peas in a pod.

He followed Jonghyun to the elevators, where he took his arm to make him turn around and face him. The smile he’d shown Taemin was gone again, and worry coiled tighter in Minho's stomach. His hand on Jonghyun's arm travelled down to tangle their fingers, and the other caressed his cheek, cupping it gently.

Jonghyun closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, letting out a deep breath.

“My grandmother died four days ago,” he murmured to Minho's unasked question. “We’re moving her to the funeral home today.”

Minho's heart dropped and, at that moment, he hated himself for not getting to Jonghyun sooner. Had he been alone the past four days? Had he been crying? Hurting?

He must have made some sort of noise, because Jonghyun opened his eyes again, their gazes locking. His eyes were glassy, but Minho still saw the forgiveness in them. As if Jonghyun could read his thoughts and were telling him it was okay he hadn’t been there for him like he should have.

But it wasn’t. It was far,  _far_  from okay and there was nothing Minho regretted more.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. He pulled Jonghyun into a tight hug, pressing his lips to the top of his head. “I’m so, so sorry Jonghyun. I… I…”

Jonghyun's arms wound tight around his waist and he buried his face in Minho's shoulder.

“Don’t apologise,” he whispered back. “You had no obligation.”

Minho swallowed thickly and shook his head.

“But I do,” he answered. “I  _want_  to have an obligation. To you. For as long as you want me.”

Jonghyun pulled back to smile up at him weakly. Then he grabbed Minho's face and pulled him down into a kiss.

“Okay,” he murmured against his lips. “From today on then.”

That made Minho crack a small smile and he nodded.

“Yes,” he breathed and sought out Jonghyun's lips again.

Their kiss was once again interrupted when Jonghyun's phone rang a second time. He pulled back with a forlorn look.

“I need to go,” he said reluctantly.

Minho nodded and watched him turn to the elevators to press the button. They stood waiting in silence, their fingers still tangled. The ding of the elevator arriving sounded more foreboding than it ever had. Jonghyun let go of Minho's hand after a last squeeze and took a step towards the elevator.

“See you later,” Minho said. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

Jonghyun paused and glanced over his shoulder. Then he swivelled around, took a step into Minho's personal space again, and leaned up to peck his lips one last time before he swiftly slunk through the closing doors of the elevator. Stunned, Minho gawked at the last glimpse of his pink cheeks and shy smile. The elevator doors closed and he was left gaping at his own reflection. Then a grin spread on his lips and a small incredulous laugh left him.

His steps were light on his way back to Taemin's room and Taemin gave him a knowing smirk once he sat down in the chair again.

“You look so in love it’s disgusting,” he snorted, though his grin was wide.

Minho gave him a light punch in the shoulder.

“Why was Jonghyun avoiding you today, though?” Taemin asked with a frown and Minho's smile fell.

“Oh… I, uh…” he cleared his throat, his eyes glued to the floor. “I’ve been a complete asshole and things happened and Jonghyun thought I… didn’t return his feelings.”

Taemin's eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“An asshole?” he repeated. “Hyung, you might not always be the most sociable person, but you’ve never been an asshole.”

Minho pressed his hands to his face and let out a long, deep sigh. Then he let out a humourless laugh.

“God, I don’t deserve Jonghyun,” he mumbled.

Fingers wrapped around his wrists and pulled his hands from his face. Taemin's eyes were concerned and worried as they met his.

“Tell me,” he prompted.

So Minho did. Everything from the moment he had gotten the phone call about the accident to the first time he had met Jonghyun, the days spent in his company and the confusion following his growing feelings, up until the very moment he finally caught Jonghyun today.

Taemin sat quietly, his eyes intent and unwavering. He didn’t move or say anything for a while when Minho finished, looking deep in thought. Then he shook his head a little and took a breath.

“You’re right,” he said. “You don’t deserve Jonghyun.”

Minho grimaced.

“I know,” he groaned. “But I can’t let him go. I really do love him.”

Taemin smiled softly.

“Yeah, I know. It’s fairly obvious by what you’ve told me,” he said. “Does he though?”

Minho frowned.

“What?”

Taemin let out a suffering sigh.

“Does Jonghyun know you love him?” he clarified.

Minho blinked at him a few times.

“I… I think so?”

It sounded as bad to his ears as it clearly did to Taemin's.

“Hyung!” he admonished. “You never actually told him?! God, how does Jonghyun put up with you?”

“Wha– b-but I–,” he stammered.

“Just tell him, will you?” Taemin interrupted. “I assure you it will make a lot of things easier.”

Silence fell, as Minho got lost in thought.

Taemin was probably right. Minho hadn’t ever shown how much he actually cared for Jonghyun. Today had been the first time he outright said anything about wanting Jonghyun, if he didn’t count his actions that one time they had been intimate. He wasn’t doing this the right way and he would hate for Jonghyun to have any doubts. Minho had already hurt him enough.

“So…” Taemin broke the silence and Minho startled. “This friend of Jonghyun's… he punched you?”

Minho snorted.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Right in the nose.”

Taemin tilted his head and inspected his face.

“I can’t see any bruises or anything,” he said.

Minho blushed a little.

“That’s because mom forced me to wear make up so I wouldn’t go around looking like a delinquent,” he confessed in a mutter. “It’s still sore, though, and they’re growing yellow now.”

Taemin stared at him for a second in astonishment. Then he burst out laughing so hard tears ran down his face.

“Oh my god!” he gasped. “You’re wearing make-up?!”

Minho dragged his hands down his face and heaved a deep sigh.

“Please don’t make it weird,” he groaned.

“It’s already weird!” Taemin breathed through his laughter.

Minho shot him a scowl, but couldn’t help but crack up as Taemin dissolved into more laughter. It released the last bit of tension in his muscles and he let himself believe that everything was fine; he hadn’t lost Jonghyun, Taemin was awake, and he was happier than he had been in a long time.

And, he was going to gather up the courage to tell Jonghyun exactly how he felt about him. As clearly as he could, so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings or daoubts.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Though Jonghyun had come to terms with his grandmother’s death, it was still difficult to see the coffin she would be buried in. It had taken him and his mother nearly an hour to choose one and his mother had broken down several times, but they had finally settled on the one they both agreed would be to his grandmother’s taste. He stood staring at it, trying to imagine his grandmother lying on the soft, plush bottom of it as his father went over everything about the ceremony with the owner of the funeral home, his mother clutching his hand to ground herself and giving her input every now and then.

The outside of the coffin was kind of nice. The wood had a dark, reddish brown to it that looked warm. His grandmother would have liked it, he thought, a sad smile curving his lips.

Gentle fingers brushed against his cheek and he blinked, tearing his eyes away from the coffin to face his mother. She smiled weakly at him and only then did he realise tears were running down his cheeks.

“Honey,” she murmured her face crumpling as she fought to hold back tears of her own. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be here sooner. It must have been hard for you and… I never got to say goodbye.”

Jonghyun swallowed around the lump in his throat and pulled her into a hug.

“She told me she was ready and that she didn’t regret anything,” he whispered.

His mother’s shoulders shook a little and she felt so small in his arms. His heart ached a little, because this was his mother. She had always been so strong and beautiful and wise.

Now though, she was just a little girl. A girl who had lost her mother.

Jonghyun's father came up to them and Jonghyun gently handed his mother over to him. He gave him a faint smile and opened an arm to pull Jonghyun to him as well. The lump in Jonghyun's throat dissolved and now both he and his mother were crying into his father’s shirt while he rubbed their backs gently. He said nothing and only stood there, their rock and comfort.

“We’re done planning for today so I’m taking your mother back to the hotel,” his father said softly once they had calmed down. “Do you want to come with us? I don’t want you to be alone.”

Jonghyun tightened his arms around his parents briefly and pulled back.

“No,” he croaked and dragged the back of his hand under his eyes. “I promised a friend I’d drink a hot cocoa with them. Maybe after?”

His father cupped the side of his head and nodded.

“Give us a call when you’ve decided.”

Jonghyun nodded, leaned in and kissed his mother’s cheek, hugged them both a last time and made his way out of the funeral home. He tried not to look as if he was running out of there, but the raised eyebrows of the owner as he passed him told him he hadn’t succeeded all that well.

Once outside he took big gulps of fresh, sorrow free air. He hadn’t realised how stuffy it had felt inside the funeral home and he was glad he was out of there. He took a moment to gather his bearings and set off, back towards the hospital.

His phone went off halfway there and he pulled it out, giving the old lady beside him on the subway an apologetic smile as she shot him the stink-eye.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Jonghyun,” Kibum greeted. “I just wanted to check up on you. Is everything fine? How are you feeling? Have your parents come yet? You didn’t run into the jerk, did you? What–”

A small smile made its way onto Jonghyun's face and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Calm down,” he interrupted. “What is this, an interrogation?”

Kibum huffed a small laugh as well.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve just been worried about you.”

Jonghyun's smile widened.

“Thank you for caring,” he murmured. “To answer your questions; mom and dad are here and everything’s fine. We… we’ve chosen a coffin and begun planning the f-funeral.” He couldn’t help stumbling a little over his words and took a breath to calm down. “I’m okay. It’s still a little weird to think she’s gone… and uhm…”

Jonghyun bit his lip, hesitating. He wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to mention Minho to Kibum, since his friend now had a burning hatred for him.

“You ran into him, didn’t you?” Kibum stated more than asked, as if he had read Jonghyun's thoughts. “I’m gonna fucking tell him off once and for all. Even if I’ll have to beat him bloody for it.”

“NO!” Jonghyun yelled, startling the few people around him. He gave small apologetic bows to them. “Kibum, do  _not_  lay a hand on him!” he hissed into the reciever.

“What?” Kibum exclaimed. “Like I’m going to let him hurt you that badly again! What did he do this time? Did he ask for forgiveness because he realised he still has a use for you? Coma boy still not fully awake?”

“ _Kibum_ ,” Jonghyun growled. “That’s not what happened!”

Kibum snorted disbelievingly.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed.

“Well, if you must know,” Jonghyun said, “he  _did_  apologise. But not because Taemin hasn’t woken up, which he did this morning by the way. He feels the same.”

The line went deadly quiet and Jonghyun would have thought it had disconnected had he not heard the faint background noise of what had to be the TV and Kibum's girlfriend laughing.

“He said he loved you?” Kibum asked finally, dangerously calm.

Jonghyun opened and closed his mouth a few times and when no answer came, Kibum scoffed.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered.

Sighing, Jonghyun rubbed his temple with his free hand.

“Kibum, he’s not the manipulative jerk you think he is,” Jonghyun told him. “Even if he hasn’t said he loves me straight out, I still believe he wouldn’t use me.”

“But wouldn’t he confess to that coma boy when he woke up?” Kibum asked, sounding frustrated. “What makes you think he didn’t come running to you as a rebound?”

“Because that’s not who Minho is!” Jonghyun protested, not able to help the volume of his voice rising again. This time he ignored everyone who shot him weird looks. “He might have made mistakes but he’s nowhere near that manipulative and selfish!”

Kibum said nothing, but his silence spoke louder than words.

“Besides,” Jonghyun continued, “I haven’t said it to him either.”

“But you’ve  _shown_  it,” Kibum countered, “which can’t be said about  _him_.”

“Kibum,” Jonghyun sighed, giving up. “I don’t know what to tell you… can’t you just trust me?”

“Oh, I trust  _you_ ,” Kibum said. “It’s  _him_  I don’t have any faith in.”

Jonghyun bit his lip.

“Well,” he said slowly. “Just give him a chance. Please?”

There was unintelligible mutter on the other side of the line and then crackling as Kibum let out a deep breath.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But only because I want you to be happy.”

Jonghyun smiled.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Kibum made a dismissing noise. His girlfriend called his name and he hummed.

“I should go,” he said. “The show we’re watching is starting.”

“Okay,” Jonghyun said. “Have fun.”

Kibum snorted before saying ‘goodbye’ and hanging up.

And, for all the confidence Jonghyun had had while speaking with Kibum, he still felt a little trickle of worry seep through him. Not that he thought Minho was using him as a rebound, but what if he had decided being in a relationship with Taemin might become complicated and had chosen Jonghyun instead because it was easier? Jonghyun didn’t doubt there was attraction there on Minho's part, but he coudln't help feeling unsure of if it ran deeper than that and it scared him a little.

Maybe he’d just ask him later. That was really the only way he would ever know exactly what was going on between them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Minho shuffled his feet self-consciously as he watched Jonghyun reach into his jean pocket for his keys.

After having spent most of the afternoon in Taemin's hospital room, they had been shooed away by a nurse since Taemin needed rest. She had also delivered a message from Nurse Lee, saying that she expected at least a lunch from Jonghyun or Minho for cleaning up the mess they had made by dropping the hot cocoa. Jonghyun had laughed embarrassedly and Minho had felt his cheeks grow warm while Taemin had cracked up all over again. Then they had said their goodbyes, promising to come over the next day, and made their way to the elevators.

Jonghyun had been a little subdued ever since he had gotten back from the funeral home and Minho hadn’t dared ask in front of Taemin. He hadn’t been sure how to begin the conversation when they left either, and had worked on gathering up his courage to ask Jonghyun to spend the rest of the day, or well evening, with him. They could go for dinner or something. Just so he could talk to him properly.

Jonghyun had beaten him to it, though, and invited Minho over to his apartment, which was why he was now finding himself following him through the door. He’d been excited at first, because he would know where Jonghyun lived at last, but now he was so nervous his hands were trembling lightly.

He had screwed up big time and he didn’t know how he would ever make it completely okay again. He hoped being clear with his feelings was a step in the right direction at least.

And this was his chance. He just needed to have a little more courage.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Jonghyun asked once they had toed off their shoes. “I have tea… uhm hot cocoa – though we drank it not that long ago – and coffee.”

Minho rolled his lips together in thought, a little distracted since he was coming up with ways to start his confession, and then shrugged.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he smiled gently.

Jonghyun returned it with a soft smile of his own.

“Maybe we should lessen the sugar intake and go with tea?” he suggested and Minho gave an amused snort.

Jonghyun's smile widened and he gestured towards the sofa in the open space to the right that had to be the living room. It was small, but cosy with only a two seat, plush-looking couch on which a knitted quilt was carelessly flung over the backrest. There was also a small, wooden table in front of the couch overwhelmed with papers and magazines and a small TV along the opposite wall.

Jonghyun disappeared into the kitchen, visible through the doorway right down the short hallway. There were two closed doors in the wall to the left and Minho guessed they led to the bedroom and bathroom.

He breathed in deeply, took the few steps over to the couch and sank down on it, inspecting the magazines curiously. There were some of music, others of news, and the three newest looking ones were on knitting. He picked one of them up and absently flipped through it as he listened to Jonghyun bustling around in the kitchen while he continued to try and come up with the perfect way to get his feelings across to Jonghyun.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Jonghyun said as he made his way into the living room after a few minutes, pulling Minho out of his thoughts. He pushed some of the magazines over to place the cups on the table and they fell to the floor with soft thuds. “I haven’t really had the energy to clean.”

Minho helped stack some of the magazines and papers to make more room.

“It’s okay,” he said. “The only reason our apartment is ever tidy is because either Taemin or Jinki cleans it. Or both.”

Jonghyun laughed and sat down beside him, at a polite distance. Minho really wanted to grab his hand and pull him closer, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed to yet. He swallowed harshly and picked up his cup of tea, blowing at it a little.

“So,” Jonghyun cleared his throat and laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. He glanced at Minho, who raised his eyebrows at him inquiringly. “Taemin told me you hate hot cocoa.”

Minho paused for a moment and stared at him.

“Uh…” he said eloquently. “I – yes, I don’t particularly like it.”

Jonghyun looked at him with a confused smile.

“Then why have you been willingly drinking it with me?”

Blinking, Minho lowered his cup to his lap and frowned.

Why  _had_  he been drinking hot chocolate? He hadn’t thought about how much he had actually drank of it, and come to think of it, ever since he met Jonghyun he hadn’t drank a lot of coffee either.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly, sounding as confused as he felt. “Well, the first time you offered me hot chocolate I didn’t know what it was and it would have been rude to return it when you had already paid for it.”

Jonghyun shook his head with an amused expression, but remained quiet, listening intently.

“Then, I guess, it just didn’t cross my mind to not drink it,” Minho continued. “It  _did_  make me feel better, too. Though, I’m not sure it actually had to do with the drink itself.”

Jonghyun bit his lip, his cheeks tinting pink.

“Oh?” he asked.

Minho smiled.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think it had more to do with the person offering the drinks.”

Jonghyun stared at him, his cheeks growing darker. Minho's smile widened.

“I really like your smile,” Jonghyun murmured then and Minho felt his own cheeks heat up.

“I really like your smile, too,” he whispered.

Jonghyun bit his lip again and, looking a little hesitant, took the cup from Minho's hands to put it on the table again before moving closer. One of his hands came up to turn Minho's head fully so their lips could meet and Minho willingly kissed back, pressing closer to Jonghyun. One of his hands fell to his hip and the other came up to rest at his throat, thumb pressing against his jaw. He smiled into the kiss when he felt the calm and warmth settle over him, like it always did when he and Jonghyun were in their little bubble. He was safe again. He was where he should be.

Jonghyun moved to straddle him and tilted his head up, his hands caressing down his chest to lift the hem of Minho's shirt. They broke the kiss long enough for Jonghyun to pull the shirt off him before they dived back in, Jonghyun's fingers now exploring the exposed skin of his chest and stomach, leaving burning trails in their wake. A shuddering breath left Minho and he leaned his head against the backrest when Jonghyun moved his lips to his jaw, his hands splayed over Minho’s abdomen for leverage as he rolled his hips into Minho’s.

Gathering his bearings, Minho raised his head again and pulled at Jonghyun's shirt, getting it off as well. He let his fingers travel across his collarbone, his lips following, and he groaned when Jonghyun rolled his hips again.

“Jonghyun,” he breathed against his skin. “Please.”

He didn’t know exactly what he was asking for; he just knew Jonghyun had the answer. Jonghyun would always  _be_  the answer.

Jonghyun let go of a shaky breath, pressed a kiss to his temple and stood, pulling Minho with him and leading him to one of the closed doors. It revealed a small bedroom with an unmade, queen-sized bed with five pillows piled at the head, and a small bedside table with two books stacked on it beside an empty glass. Jonghyun led him over to the bed and pushed him down on it so he was leaning against two of the pillows and the headrest. He climbed up after him and straddled his lap again, wasting no time in claiming Minho's lips once more. Minho was content with the feeling of skin against skin for a while, the hands on Jonghyun's waist and back pressing him closer.

Soon Jonghyun's fingers were travelling again, down to Minho's pants, and they both managed to wiggle out of the rest of their clothes, breathing a few chuckles at the ungraceful movements their position caused. Then Minho tilted his head up to kiss Jonghyun, leaving them both breathless quickly.

“Jonghyun, do you have anything?” he murmured against his lips.

Jonghyun moved back to press a trail of soft kisses along his collarbone before nodding and leaning over to the bedside table, searching for what they needed.

Minho was a little out of practice, since he hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and he was afraid he would hurt Jonghyun. But Jonghyun was patient and guided him with soft words and touches, stealing a few kisses every now and then.

Minho’s heart swelled with love and he kissed the juncture of Jonghyun's throat and jaw as his head fell back once their bodies began moving in earnest, trailing his lips down the column of his throat to suck a mark just underneath the beginning of his collarbone. Then he tightened his arms around Jonghyun's waist and brought him closer to bury his face into the crook of his neck, taking in deep breaths of his scent. Jonghyun's arms fell around his neck and he kissed the top of his head.

The speed of their movements picked up after a moment of languidly rocking into each other and soon Minho unravelled. Jonghyun followed not far behind and it left them sitting pressed together, breathing heavily as they came down from their high. Minho chuckled hoarsely once he had gathered his bearings and pulled back to look up at Jonghyun's touched out expression.

He leaned up and caught his lips in a soft kiss, coaxing him to lie down as he got up to get a towel to clean them up. His legs were a little weak and he bit his lip against the giddy smile that threatened to spread on his face.

Jonghyun blinked at him sleepily when he returned and a slow smile curved his lips as Minho began drying him off. He grabbed the towel from Minho's hands once he was done and tossed it to the corner of the room before grabbing Minho's wrist and pulling him down on top of him, burying his face in the crook of his neck and pressing soft kisses to his skin. Minho laughed a little and rolled off him only to pull him to his chest.

“I actually had planned on talking to you,” Minho admitted amusedly and Jonghyun hummed distantly. “Before we did anything.”

Jonghyun pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Sleep first,” he murmured. “I haven’t slept properly lately and now I just feel so relaxed.”

A small pang of guilt hit Minho, because he was certain at least a part of that was his fault, if not all of it. He tightened his arms around Jonghyun.

“Okay,” he whispered and kissed his forehead. “Sleep well.”

Jonghyun hummed again and soon his breaths evened out. Minho's own breaths fell in synch and it didn’t take long for him to follow Jonghyun into dreamland.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho woke up on his back, one of Jonghyun's arms bent under his head, the fingers playing with the top of his hair. The other arm was drawn across his chest, hugging him close, and lips brushed against his shoulder softly. He took a moment to enjoy the sensation of peace and stillness before blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Then he turned his head and caught the fond gaze directed at him.

“Good morning,” Jonghyun murmured and pressed a kiss to his shoulder this time.

Minho smiled a little and rolled onto his side to drape an arm around Jonghyun's waist and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Morning,” he mumbled into his skin and kissed his collarbone.

He felt rather than saw the smile spread on Jonghyun's lips and they fell into comfortable silence again. Jonghyun's breaths deepened and Minho would have thought he had fallen back asleep had his fingers not been tracing gentle patterns across his back the entire time. Their heartbeats synchronised, though Minho didn’t think Jonghyun realised since he probably couldn’t hear Minho's heart. But it brought a kind of reassurance to know Jonghyun was there and his in both body and soul.

It overwhelmed him then, poured into his heart until he thought it would burst, spread the widest grin on his face and took his breath away all in one.

He loved this man.

This wonderful, kind-hearted, stunning man.

And Jonghyun loved him back.

How amazing wasn’t that?

“Jonghyun?” Minho murmured.

“Mh?” he hummed.

Minho smiled to himself and tightened his arm around Jonghyun's waist, caressing his fingertips along his spine, which earned him a small hitch in Jonghyun's breathing. It took him a while to be able to find the right words, his throat clogged up with emotion, but Jonghyun didn’t pressure him.

“I think you’re my guardian angel,” he whispered finally, into the quiet still air, his mouth brushing against Jonghyun’s skin.

Jonghyun snorted.

“I think I’m just a nosy, little bastard.”

Minho's smile widened.

“Well,” he said slowly. “You got  _little_  right.”

Jonghyun pulled back to glare at him, although mirth shone through his eyes.

“Oh no,” he warned. “You did  _not_  just say that.”

Minho raised his eyebrows in challenge and a wicked grin spread on Jonghyun's lips. Then he pounced on him, his fingers relentlessly tickling Minho's sides. Minho let out a yelp of surprise and, laughing, they wrestled for a moment until they were both so breathless they could barely laugh anymore. Then Minho rolled them over and pinned Jonghyun's wrists to the bed by his head. He nuzzled their noses together before leaning his forehead against Jonghyun’s.

“You,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to Jonghyun's lips, “ _are_  my guardian angel.”

He pulled back to look into Jonghyun's stunned eyes, caressing his cheek with the knuckles of his hand.

“And I love you.”

Jonghyun blinked a few times, as if he couldn’t quite understand what Minho was saying. Then his eyes welled up and a few tears escaped. Smiling faintly, Minho kissed them away.

“Why are you crying?” he whispered against his cheek.

A watery laugh left Jonghyun and he shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

He grabbed Minho's face to make him look at him again, shrugging meekly.

“Sensory overload?” he offered with a small smile.

Minho kissed him.

“I love you,” he murmured when he broke his lips away to breathe and Jonghyun gasped.

Then Jonghyun laughed and it was bubbly and happy and free. It made Minho's heart light and filled him with fondness so strong he had trouble catching his breath, spreading another wide, goofy grin on his lips.

Jonghyun mirrored it, eyes sparkling with happiness, and his thumbs rubbed Minho's cheeks gently.

“I love you too,” he said, his smile widening. “So much.”

Minho shook his head at him, but followed easily as Jonghyun pulled him into another kiss.

It took them a while to stop exploring each other, exchanging soft kisses, sloppy kisses, heated kisses, fingers mapping every inch of their bodies, the way they had been too hurried to do properly the night before, until they both reached their high and were left staring at each other, eyes dark, cheeks pink, lips red, and breaths shallow.

Minho was so full of feelings by that point he barely knew what to do with himself. He ended up squeezing Jonghyun to him as tightly as he dared and burying his face in his hair, ignoring the mess between their bodies. Jonghyun's laugh came in warm puffs against his neck and his arms wound tight around Minho's waist while they caught their breaths and worked on calming down again.

“We should shower,” Jonghyun hummed when they were breathing normally again. “Do you wanna go first?”

Minho made a noncommittal noise and Jonghyun snorted.

“Okay,” he huffed and began wiggling out of Minho's arms, laughing when Minho tried to make him stay.

He was apparently stronger than he looked, though it took him some time, because Minho put in his best efforts to keep him right were he was. Once free, he stood up, located his underwear and pulled them on.

“I’ll start breakfast,” Jonghyun informed him, looking over his shoulder with a small smile. “Pick whichever towel you want in the cabinet to the left of the sink. There’s soap, shampoo and conditioner in the shower if you want it.”

When Minho didn’t move from his spot Jonghyun rolled his eyes fondly. Then he bent down to give Minho's lips a quick peck, pulling back with a goofy smile.

“What?” Minho asked.

Jonghyun shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said, biting his lip. “It just feels so good seeing you in my bed, all tousled up, and to be able to kiss you whenever I want. I’m still not entirely sure this isn’t a dream.”

A small trickle of icy guilt spread through Minho's chest. He swallowed harshly, sat up and grabbed Jonghyun's hands to pull him closer.

“I… Jonghyun…” he began but couldn’t find the right words.

Jonghyun's smile faded a little and his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad, Minho,” he said and squeezed his hands briefly. “I’m so happy I think I’ll burst, and it’s because of you.”

Minho smiled weakly, looking down at their joined hands.

“It’s also because of me you’ve been hurting,” he said quietly.

Jonghyun sighed and let go of Minho's hands to gently tilt his face up.

“You were in a bad place Minho,” he said. “And I won’t hold it against you. Call me too forgiving or whatever but I don’t really want to spend my time wasting energy on negativity when I have something positive and precious right here in front of me.”

Minho's heart stuttered and he smiled. Jonghyun grinned back, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And it’s not like I won’t get mad at you in the future,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll have fights and we’ll both feel horrible about it but then the make-up sex will be amazing.”

Minho snorted, his cheeks heating up.

“Good god,” he chuckled. “Please don’t ever say anything like that in front of Taemin or Jinki. We wouldn’t hear the end of it whenever we have an argument.”

Jonghyun laughed and bent down to give him another kiss.

“So, everything’s okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Minho sighed. “If you feel you’re okay.”

“I’m peachy,” Jonghyun grinned. He grabbed Minho's hands again and pulled him up. “Now, please shower. We promised Taemin we’d go visit him today and I don’t think he’d appreciate your current appearance.”

Minho blushed again though he couldn’t help but laugh as he followed Jonghyun out of the bedroom.

“Actually,” Minho said, “he’d probably think it’s hilarious.”

Jonghyun laughed as well and opened the bathroom door, pushing Minho inside.

“Well, I’m not sure the rest of the world would appreciate it,” he retorted and shut the door.

Minho grinned at the closed door, before getting to work on cleaning himself up. He caught himself humming several times, and it only made his grin widen. Why had he ever doubted what he had with Jonghyun?

He cleaned up quickly, limbs jittery in his need to get back to Jonghyun again. He exited the bathroom after less than ten minutes and made his way to the kitchen where Jonghyun was moving about, singing along to the radio under his breath. Minho stopped in the doorway to lean against the doorjamb and watch him as he danced around the kitchen.

“Oh,” Jonghyun said when he noticed his presence and turned around. “I was about to put on–,” he broke off with a gasp. “What happened?!”

Minho frowned and looked down at himself. His clothes were wrinkled since he hadn’t bothered to fold them properly in their haste yesterday night, but that shouldn’t warrant such a reaction, right?

“What?” he asked.

Jonghyun pointed to his face with a horrified look and it took Minho a moment to remember the bruises left by Kibum.

“Oh…” He laughed sheepishly. “Well, Kibum didn’t take too kindly to me treating you like I had. By all rights, I suppose.”

Jonghyun gaped and Minho raised his eyebrows at him.

“B-b-but yesterday?” he asked.

Minho blushed.

“My mom forced me to wear make-up so I wouldn’t walk around looking like a ‘thug’,” he explained, using air quotes, and rolled his eyes. “She’s afraid the police will put me in jail or that other thugs will pick fights with me.”

Jonghyun blinked at him incredulously for a few moments. Then he shook himself a little and stomped out of the kitchen to the living room, where he picked up his phone and pressed a few buttons before putting it to his ear.

“What is  _wrong_  with you?!” he said most likely as soon as the other person, who Minho assumed was Kibum, picked up. “You can’t just go around punching people’s faces!”

There was a pause and Minho could hear the faint sound of Kibum defending himself in the silence.

“It doesn’t matter!” Jonghyun exclaimed. “Violence solves nothing!”

Again, silence fell as Jonghyun listened to what Kibum had to say. Then he breathed in deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Yeah, see you.”

He hung up and turned to Minho, who raised his eyebrows at him.

“Kibum's still sceptical of your intentions,” he said with a sheepish look and a shrug.

Minho's jaw clenched but he tried not to show how much it hurt knowing the way he had treated Jonghyun.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I can understand that.”

Jonghyun watched him for a moment, his head tilted. Then he walked up to him, planted a quick kiss to his lips and grabbed his hand.

“Let’s eat breakfast,” he smiled.

And Minho couldn’t help but smile back at him, squeezing his hand gratefully.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Hello again, Jonghyun.  
Thank you for letting me know about Taemin. I have something to confess. I actually went to the hospital yesterday and though I couldn’t bring myself to go in, there was a part of me that longed to see Taemin. Do you think he would want to meet me?_

Jonghyun sighed as he looked down at his phone.

He’d exited Taemin's hospital room with the excuse of going to the toilet once he had gotten the message, but had stopped just around the corner to the elevators, wondering what he should do. He hadn’t told either Minho or Taemin about having been in contact with Taemin's mother yet, but he supposed this was as good a time as any to bring it up. He was sure Taemin wouldn’t be mad and if Taemin was fine with it, Minho would probably be fine with it too.

He took another breath and turned to head back to Taemin's room.

Minho and Taemin sat arguing about the morals of a character on the crime show they were currently watching on the hospital’s TV. Jonghyun smiled to himself and went unnoticed as he snuck up behind Minho, who sat with his back toward him. He couldn’t resist running his fingers through Minho's hair and Minho stuttered in his argument to then tilt his head back and look at Jonghyun. Small smiles slowly spread on both their lips and they got stuck staring at each other.

Taemin cleared his throat loudly.

“You guys,” he said, his nose wrinkled. “I know you’re probably in the honeymoon phase right now, but please, I’m gonna barf over here because you’re being so sickeningly sweet.”

Jonghyun blushed and let out a little laugh as he watched colour spread over Minho's face as well before he looked back down at Taemin.

“Sorry,” Minho said sheepishly.

Taemin just rolled his eyes with a snort and Jonghyun sat down in the chair beside Minho’s. The other two turned their attention back towards the TV-show and Jonghyun settled into his chair, smiling to himself again when Minho's hand found his and interlaced their fingers. Jonghyun glanced at Taemin from time to time, wondering when and how he should tell him about his mother. There really was no easy way around it, and he didn’t want to end up hurting Taemin, but he had to try.

Before he could say anything though, there was a knock at the door and they all looked over, their eyes falling upon an uncertain Kibum shuffling his feet in the doorway.

“Kibum,” Jonghyun said, surprised, and stood up. “What are you doing here?”

Kibum grimaced faintly at him as he approached and glanced at Minho and Taemin.

“I thought… I’d come see for myself,” he muttered, only loud enough for Jonghyun to hear.

“Oh, well,” Jonghyun looked over his shoulder at the other two. They raised their eyebrows at him and Minho gave a small nod.

Jonghyun smiled back at him softly and grabbed Kibum's wrist.

“Come on then,” he said and pulled him over. “You’ve met Minho,” Jonghyun gave Kibum a pointed look, which was returned with a wrinkle of his nose. Then he gestured at Taemin. “This is Taemin. Taemin, this is my friend Kibum.”

Taemin eyed Kibum, his eyes narrowed, and Kibum stared back at him silently.

“Huh,” Taemin said at last. “So you’re the guy that punched Minho-Hyung in the face and forced him to wear make-up.”

Kibum's jaw fell open and Jonghyun had to stifle a laugh while Minho gave Taemin a disapproving frown.

“I did not force him to wear make-up!” Kibum exclaimed in astonishment.

Taemin raised his eyebrows.

“Well, indirectly you did by giving him a shiner in the middle of the face,” he said, shaking his head with a sad sigh. “His poor mother didn’t know what to think.”

“What? I– he–,” Kibum spluttered and gaped when Taemin burst out laughing.

When a small chuckle escaped Jonghyun Kibum glanced at him and shuffled his feet a little, looking sheepish. Then he glanced up at Minho and Jonghyun could see him eyeing the bruise he had left before turning his eyes to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled then, not looking at any of them. “I was angry but I shouldn’t have punched you, Minho.”

Jonghyun smiled at Kibum's downturned head before looking at Minho, just catching Taemin elbowing him in the ribs.

“Uh, I…” Minho said uncertainly, glancing at Jonghyun for help. Jonghyun shrugged. “I’m sorry too… for making you angry…”

Kibum nodded and silence fell. Jonghyun and Taemin looked at each other with small smiles.

“Um, yeah, so,” Taemin broke the silence. “Go find a chair or something and sit down, we’re watching this awesome show and you have to help me win an argument against Minho-Hyung. Jonghyun's hopeless since he can’t keep his eyes off Hyung long enough to actually understand what’s going on. To be fair, though, I’m not sure Minho-Hyung's been watching this episode properly either.”

Minho smacked the back of Taemin's head, which earned him a stuck out tongue, and Kibum stared at him for a moment. Then he looked at Jonghyun, expression incredulous. Jonghyun nodded with a smile and Kibum sighed.

“Okay,” he said slowly and exited the room to find a chair.

It didn’t take long for him to come back and Taemin instantly launched into his previous discussion with Minho, only this time Kibum joined in and gave his opinions as they all watched what remained of the episode. Jonghyun watched them, his head tilted and his fingers interlaced with Minho's on his thigh.

It was in the middle of a heated debate, this time over a character’s love interest, that the door to Taemin's room opened again and they all stopped talking to look over. Jinki entered, looking a little tense, which immediately put Jonghyun on high alert and he sat up a little straighter. It couldn’t be–

“Jinki-Hyung!” Taemin greeted happily. “I thought–”

Taemin, Minho and Jonghyun all stopped breathing as Taemin's mother entered behind Jinki and Kibum looked around at all of them in confusion.

Taemin's mother wrung her hands anxiously, her gaze flickering between all of them. When they landed on Jonghyun she seemed to relax a little and took a small breath.

“Hello, Taemin,” she greeted softly.

Taemin made a choked sound and Minho grabbed his hand.

“If you don’t want to see her, I’ll tell her to leave,” Minho muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Taemin, Kibum and Jonghyun to hear.

Without tearing his gaze away from his mother, Taemin swallowed a few times before shaking his head slowly.

“L-let me talk to her,” he whispered, though he looked terrified.

Minho looked like he wanted to protest but Jonghyun put a hand on his arm and pulled him out of his chair.

“Let’s give them some time,” he murmured and turned to Kibum. “Come on.”

Kibum nodded and stood as well. They all followed Jinki out the door and down the hall to a couch in the common area by the nurse’s station.

“Who was that?” Kibum asked as they sat down.

Minho was scowling at the floor and Jinki was muttering something to him too softly to hear, so Jonghyun decided he should answer the question.

“Taemin's mother,” he said. “They’ve had a rough relationship.”

“Right, I think you told me a little about her,” Kibum said. “You and Minho went to see her didn’t you?”

Jonghyun nodded.

“Yeah.” He glanced over at Minho and swallowed. “Minho, I need to tell you something.”

Minho looked up at him, his scowl disappearing, replaced instead by a concerned frown. Jinki sighed, and something told Jonghyun Taemin's mother had told him about the contact she had had with Jonghyun if the pointed look he received was anything to go by.

“What is it?” Minho asked.

“Well…” Jonghyun hesitated, glancing at Kibum who raised his eyebrows at him.

“Kibum,” Jinki said. “I’m kind of starving and I’d rather not queue alone in the cafeteria, would you kindly join me?”

Kibum narrowed his eyes at him and glanced between Jonghyun and Minho, but thankfully didn’t comment on the obvious lie and nodded.

“Why not,” he muttered and stood up, following Jinki to the elevators.

Once they both had disappeared into the elevator, Jonghyun turned to Minho fully and took a deep breath. Minho's frown deepened and he grabbed Jonghyun's hand.

“What?” he asked.

“So, um…” Jonghyun began, staring down at his lap. “I understand if you get angry, but I… sort of, kind of… have been in contact with Taemin's mom.”

Minho grew very still and Jonghyun chanced a glance up at him, meeting his blank stare for a brief moment before looking away again.

“How?” Minho asked.

Jonghyun grimaced at his left knee.

“Remember when we visited her that day to tell her about Taemin and I stayed behind when you stormed out?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I gave her my number then,” Jonghyun admitted. “In case she ever wanted to know what happened to Taemin.”

Silence fell. Minho hadn’t let go of Jonghyun's hand yet, which he took as a sign things weren’t about to get entirely disastrous, but the longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous Jonghyun became.

“Why?” Minho asked finally after what seemed like an eternity.

Jonghyun shrugged.

“She just looked so torn and sad and hurt. I thought there might be a part of her that still thought about Taemin from time to time,” he mumbled. “Guess I was right.”

Minho made a small sound.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed.

Jonghyun looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, except for the still present frown.

“Look, I know I shouldn’t have done it without telling you Minho,” he said. “But it was just kind of an impulse thing, which is how I land myself in trouble most of the time. Like when I decided to give you my hot cocoa, or when I ended up at your door that time you were really sad, or when I went to see Taemin because I needed to let him know he couldn’t slip away – though maybe that wasn’t trouble because Taemin actually woke up – but–”

“Jonghyun,” Minho smiled a little and the hand that wasn’t clutching Jonghyun's came up to rest at his neck. “Stop talking for a moment.”

Jonghyun snapped his mouth closed and nodded. Minho's smile grew a little and he used the hand on Jonghyun's neck to pull him into a kiss. It took him a little by surprise but he wasn’t slow to return the kiss, scooting up closer to Minho. After a moment Minho pulled back to breathe, his forehead resting against Jonghyun's.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For not talking?” Jonghyun asked.

Minho snorted.

“No,” he said. “For being impulsive and landing yourself in trouble. Because if you hadn’t  _I_  would be in trouble. Much more trouble.”

“That’s a weird way to tell me you love me,” Jonghyun said, a smile spreading on his lips.

“Shut up,” Minho laughed. “That was definitely romantic.”

Jonghyun grinned.

“As if,” he teased. “A goldfish could come up with a more romantic line than that.”

Minho shook his head, an answering grin on his lips, though it soon dimmed a little.

“Of course you would be the one to wake Taemin up,” he whispered. “You really are my guardian angel.”

Jonghyun bit his lip and looked down.

“I’m really not,” he mumbled. “I caused a lot of damage, too.”

Minho shook his head.

“I might have thought so at first but, the truth is, it probably was a good thing you did all the things you did,” he said softly. “Otherwise I would have gone mad with Taemin's situation.”

Smiling a little, Jonghyun looked up at him again.

“Who says you  _aren’t_  crazy?” he said.

Minho shook his head at him, muttered ‘ _You’re_  crazy’ with a small smile tugging at his lips and pulled Jonghyun in for another kiss. Jonghyun laughed softly against his lips and moved his legs so he was nearly sitting in Minho's lap. Minho's hands fell to his thighs and let his palms slide over them slowly but steadily and Jonghyun gently pecked his lips before deepening the kiss again.

“Eugh, could you please not have sex here?” came Kibum's voice. They broke apart and turned to a grimacing Kibum and a pink-faced Jinki. “Good God, I need to go get my eyes bleached.”

Jinki burst out laughing as Kibum turned and walked away, muttering under his breath.

“Sorry,” Jonghyun apologised sheepishly and slid off Minho's lap. “Got a bit carried away.”

“I can see that,” Jinki answered, amused glint to his eyes.

The door to Taemin's room opened then, and his mother stepped out. Jonghyun couldn’t see clearly from where he was, but it looked like her eyes were red from crying. Worry coiling in his stomach, he stood and approached her hesitantly, Minho and Jinki not far behind.

“Oh, Jonghyun,” she said when she noticed him. Her voice was a little wobbly but she gave him a small smile and then pulled him into a tight hug.

Jonghyun raised his arms uncertainly and hugged her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered and pulled back.

He smiled at her. She gave Minho and Jinki a nod and turned, making her way to the elevators. They watched her as she waited for the elevator and stepped inside it before sharing a glance and entering Taemin's room, nervous energy humming between them.

“Hey,” Taemin greeted as they entered. His eyes were red from crying as well and he sniffled a little. “So, my mom was here.”

A watery laugh left him and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. Minho and Jinki were by his side in a second, but Jonghyun hung back a little.

“Is everything okay?” Jinki said. “What did she say?”

Taemin swallowed.

“She apologised for how things had been and said she was glad I had been taken in by Minho-Hyung’s parents,” he said. “And she asked if I wanted to meet sometime for coffee when I was feeling better.”

“And?” Minho asked.

Taemin smiled faintly.

“I told her I wasn’t sure if or when I would be ready to sit and talk with her properly.” He took a shaky breath. “But she left her number if I ever wanted to meet.”

Jonghyun swallowed. He didn’t want Taemin to feel he was forced to meet his mother just because she had apologised. Taemin should be able to decide what made him happy without feeling guilty.

“Taemin,” he spoke up and took a step closer. Taemin looked at him. “There is no pressure, I hope you know that. Just because she came her to apologise doesn’t mean you have an obligation to her. She made her choices, good or bad, and you have to make yours by whatever feels right to you. And you definitely shouldn’t feel guilty if you don’t want to meet her.”

Taemin's smile widened and he opened his arms. When Jonghyun simply stared at him, hesitant, he rolled his eyes.

“Come here, I wanna give you a hug!” he said.

Jonghyun smiled faintly and took the few steps left to Taemin's bed to bend down, careful of the wires and IVs connected to Taemin's body. Of course, Taemin didn’t care and pulled him down into a bone-crushing hug. Jonghyun worried a moment for his broken ribs.

“Man, I’ve known you for about two days and already you’re my favourite person in the entire world,” Taemin laughed.

“Hey!” Minho and Jinki said at the same time.

Taemin ignored them and let go of Jonghyun and they both grinned at each other. Jinki sighed at them.

“And I came all the way here to see you, Taemin,” he muttered, though he smiled as well. “Why am I not even greeted?”

Taemin rolled his eyes.

“I’ve seen your ugly face my entire life, Hyung,” he said and Jinki grimaced at him. “Besides, when you were here yesterday the only thing you did was flirt and go frolicking with the pretty nurse.”

Colour rose to Jinki's face and he bit his lip through a small smile.

“She  _is_  pretty,” he agreed.

“Oh my god, you’re just as disgusting as them!” Taemin exclaimed and waved his hand at Minho and Jonghyun.

“Who’s disgusting?” came Kibum's voice from the door as he returned.

Jinki raised a hand as he approached.

“Me, apparently,” he said with a small grin and then pointed to Jonghyun and Minho. “And them.”

Wrinkling his nose, Kibum appraised all of them before giving a derisive nod.

“I’d have to agree,” he said and sat down in a chair.

Taemin laughed and he and Kibum soon launched into an argument with Jinki about public displays of affection. Jonghyun sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead.

Fingers linked with his and he looked up at Minho, who gave a soft smile and nodded towards the door. Jonghyun cast a glance at the three arguing before nodding, and they managed to sneak out of the room without anyone noticing. They laughed under their breaths all the way to the elevator and down to Minho’s car.

“I don’t ever want to be in the same room as those three again,” Minho chuckled once they were out on the road. “My head might just explode.”

Jonghyun shook his head with a small laugh.

“Well, at least they get along,” he said.

Minho glanced at him and his smile softened.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

Jonghyun smiled to himself as Minho returned his attention to the road and grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers.

“So, do you want to come to my place and have some hot cocoa?” he asked.

A laugh bubbled out of Minho and he shook his head in amusement.

“I would love to.”

 

 

 

~The End~

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really know how to split it so this is how it is for now. But I hope you enjoyed it! :)


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